Living Out in the Snow
by seilleanmor
Summary: Castle and Beckett's first New Year as a married couple, spent at her father's cabin. A sequel to Living is Easy, although it's not truly necessary to have read that story. A chapter posted every day for advent.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Back in March, I cowrote a story with bravevulnerability called _Sting a Second Time_ in which I mentioned two visits that Kate and Rick took to her father's cabin. The first of these was the summer they got together, and my story _Living is Easy_ depicts that time. The second was for New Years, their first year as husband and wife. That's what this story is. A chapter will be posted each day, as an advent gift to all of you in gratitude for your support and kindness.

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 _We let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know_

 _Then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow_

 _ **Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels),**_ **Arcade Fire**

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 **Monday, December 29th 2014**

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"Oh good, you're still here," Martha says as she comes in the door.

Kate springs up from the couch to help her mother-in-law. Castle's mom is laden with shopping bags and Beckett takes them, freeing Martha up to shuck out of her coat.

"I thought I might have missed you."

"Rick's still packing," Kate says. She huffs a little breath of laughter and turns over her shoulder to dart a glance through into their bedroom. Her suitcase is already zippered up and waiting by the front door, but Castle has his open at the end of their bed and he flits around the loft gathering things.

Martha hangs up her coat in the closet next to the front door and takes her bags back from Kate, detouring to set her purchases down on the coffee table. Kate stays where she is next to the door, not quite sure where to settle herself, and Martha comes back and hooks her arm through Kate's elbow.

"Richard," she calls out, sharing a smile with Beckett, and Castle pokes his head around the doorframe.

He's wearing a dark cream sweater today, the navy and white plaid of his button down just peeking out from underneath the collar. Kate covets his sweater collection, steals them for herself to curl up inside when she gets home from the precinct. He grumbles and pouts and then wraps his arms around her waist, warm hands sneaking underneath the wool.

"Hi Mother. Good shopping trip? I didn't think you'd be back for a while."

"Oh darling it was just chaos," Martha says. She untangles herself from Kate so that she can throw her hands up in the air. It sets the stacks of bangles at her slender wrists jingling and she catches them with two fingers tucked down against her hand. The first time Kate ever saw Castle's mother do that she had questioned it, and Martha had laughed and explained that it was an actor's habit to stifle the noise of the jewellery, so that she wouldn't have to go back in and rerecord her lines later.

It makes Kate smile to see it now and she touches two fingers to Martha's elbow to bring her over to the couch. They sink to sit, Castle following along behind and settling in the easy chair. His mother wrings her hands together. Her knuckles are swollen with age now, her skin paper thin and cold when Kate covers Martha's hand in hers.

"Was it busy?" Castle says, shifting in his chair. The attractive stretch of his sweater's thick knit across the plane of his chest makes Kate want to curl up with him, lay her cheek to the soft fabric, but they've got a schedule to keep to. Plenty of time for snuggling later.

"Horrifically so, yes. I only visited a couple of stores and then I'm afraid I had to call it a day. I'm not as young as I once was."

"You only visited a couple of stores?" Castle says. His voice is pitched high enough that Kate's eye twitches. "You've got seven bags, Mother."

Martha waves a hand at her son in dismissal, and then settles it at Kate's knee. "Yes darling. Now, your wife seems to be ready to go and here you are, still packing."

He makes a grumpy little noise and folds his arms over his chest, his eyes darting between the two of them before he settles on his mother. "I have to make sure I've got everything. Just because Kate is superhuman when it comes to organisation doesn't mean you have to hold me to that standard."

"I wanted to get there by lunchtime, babe," she says. Drawing her legs up onto the couch, she folds them beneath herself. "At this rate we're going to have to stop for food on our way to the cabin. And we're still gonna have to go and buy groceries once we arrive."

"Okay, okay, I'm going," he grumbles, but there's a flicker of mirth at one corner of his mouth. His lips tug up as he heads back to the bedroom to finish packing.

Once he's gone, Kate twists on the couch to face her mother-in-law and brings her leg up, propping her chin on top of her knee and wrapping both arms around her shin. "Martha, are you and Alexis sure that you don't mind us going away? You know you're both welcome to join us."

"Katherine, honey," Martha says on a laugh. She reaches for one of Kate's hands and peels it away from her shin, squeezing tight. "This is your first New Year as husband and wife. It's special. And anyway, Alexis is happy to have the loft to herself for her party, and I've got plans with friends from the play. Don't worry about us."

"Okay," Kate manages a smile, dipping her head to let her hair spill over her cheeks. "It's just that he's your son. Alexis' dad. I don't want to take him away from either of you."

"We had him for Christmas, darling. You two go, enjoy your time together. It's only five days, I'm sure we'll manage just fine."

The wry little smirk that tugs at Martha's mouth makes Kate laugh and she props her elbow against the back of the couch, cheek supported by her palm. It's only been a little less than a month since she officially moved out of her place, but the loft is warm and her things are scattered around and it feels like home.

"I'm ready," Castle calls out as he appears from their bedroom, wheeling his suitcase behind him. He's got his wallet and phone trapped against his palm with two fingers, his thumb through the loop of the keychain to let the car keys dangle, and he sets his bag beside hers. "You good to go?"

"Uh-huh," Kate says. She stands up from the couch and heads for the kitchen to grab her purse from the island. Her camel coat is draped over one of the barstools and she pulls it on, winds the soft tartan scarf around her neck. Patting her pocket, she checks for her phone and nods at her husband. "Yep. I'm good."

"Got the keys to the cabin?" he asks when she comes to join him by the front door. Kate unzips her purse, rummages inside until she comes up with the keys on their chain. It's in the shape of a flat little silver squirrel, and stamped across the widest part it says _I'm nuts for you_.

She got it as a stocking filler this year and when she shows her husband he grins and wiggles his eyebrows, pride shaving years off of him. Kate drops the keys back into her purse and tucks it over her shoulder, stepping into her leather ankle boots. With her black skinny jeans and turtleneck her outfit isn't all that exciting, but her coat and scarf add a splash of interest and Castle smiles, his hands settling at her hips.

"You look lovely, Kate."

"Thanks," she hums, lifting up on tiptoe in her flat shoes so that she can kiss him. This time of year suits him; he mellows after Christmas itself, and in the few days between the big day and the new year all he wants to do is curl up under a blanket and watch movies.

Martha's fingers come to Kate's shoulder and she steps away from Castle to embrace his mother instead, the tip of her nose pressed close against Martha's neck. "Goodbye darlings. Have a wonderful time."

"Thank you Mother," Castle says. He accepts the kiss that Martha dusts to his cheek, and then he opens the front door and steps out into the hallway, dragging both of their suitcases out behind him. "I'll let you know when we get there, if I can find some signal."

"Drive safely," Martha says, one hip propped against the doorframe now as she watches them make their way to the elevator. She gives them a last wave as they round the corner and then they hear the door close.

The elevator is waiting on their floor and the doors slide open as soon as Kate presses the call button. Castle steps on first and she follows him inside the elevator car, tugging her suitcase on behind her. Her husband has one hand curled around the handle of his case, but he slides his free arm around her shoulders and draws her in close against him.

"Excited?"

"Yeah," she says. She lays her cheek against his chest as the elevator sinks slowly down to the lobby. "I can't believe it's been two and a half years since the first time we were there. It's weird to think about, isn't it?"

He laughs at that, dropping his arm from around her shoulders as the elevator doors slide open. They have to change in the lobby, because there's a separate elevator down to the parking garage so that nobody can get into the building without the doorman seeing them. Frank waves as they make their way to the garage elevator, and Kate offers him a smile.

Beside hers, Castle's fingers are flexing and their knuckles brush, but she can't hold his hand and wheel her case and carry her purse all at the same time. The elevator takes only a few seconds before the doors open onto the parking garage and Kate huffs a breath, tucking her chin down inside her scarf.

When they get to the car Castle pops the trunk and puts both of their cases inside, turning to look at her in question. "Want your purse with you in the car, or do you wanna put it in the trunk?"

"I'll keep it with me. You want to drive until we stop for lunch and then we'll switch?"

"Sure," he grins. He closes the trunk again and rounds the car to slide into the driver's seat. Kate climbs into the passenger side and sets her purse down in the footwell, toeing out of her shoes to get comfortable for the drive to the cabin.

Castle takes a moment to adjust the seat and the mirrors and then he starts the engine and they pull smoothly out of the parking spot. Her phone connects to the car's bluetooth automatically and she scrolls through her music library until she finds a playlist.

They sit together in easy silence, Castle following her directions out of the city. He cranks up the heat in the car so that Kate has to shrug out of her coat and twist around to lay it in the back seat. Every so often a snatch of melody catches her husband's attention and he hums it back, as if he's sounding out the unfamiliar notes.

"Do you have any plans for our time at the cabin?" he asks once they're settled on the interstate. The car is a sleek and shiny beast carving through the landscape. This far out of the city, the world has managed to cling to the kiss of frost and Kate presses her cheek to the window.

"Nothing solid. I thought it might be nice to try and get up to the farm, see Jay and Abby. But really I just want us to relax and spend time together."

He smiles at that, his gaze shifting away from the windshield for half a second so that he can share it with her. "That sounds perfect. It's weird how much has changed since we were last at the cabin, huh?"

"Yeah," she hums, twisting in her seat to face him a little more. Kate tucks her feet up onto the chair, toes curled over the edge, and she wiggles them in her thick socks. "Back then I kind of. . .I thought that this might be it. I hoped, anyway. And now I'm sure."

"I'm sure too," he beams. He's intent on watching the road, so Kate can only see a shard of his face like this, but even just that one happy eye and the edge of a smile makes her grin in echo. "My wife."

He has a habit of saying that now. Sometimes in amazement, sometimes so softly she almost misses it. Sometimes loud and delighted and chasing her around the kitchen, hoping to get her back for smearing flour across his cheek.

"Remember what you said to me when I was in the bath with poison ivy? You said we'd come to the cabin for Christmas, and I'd be your husband."

"It's not exactly Christmas," she laughs. She reaches out to straighten the collar of his sweater where it's gotten a little crooked. Castle isn't coming back to the precinct with her in the new year, and she's not sure if it's that or the fact that she's his wife now that renders her completely unable to stop touching him.

He lifts one shoulder at her in a shrug, drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel. So often since their wedding Castle's entire body has been overtaken with joy; it comes out in random bursts of song or in dances they share around their kitchen, in the bounce of his body on the mattress every night as he worms his way between the sheets.

"Close enough," he says. His stomach gurgles its irritation then and he laughs, frees a hand from the wheel to press against his belly. "Wanna grab some lunch at the next rest stop?"

"Sure."

The exit comes up after another fifteen minutes or so and Castle flicks on the blinker and eases the car across a lane. He's a good driver and even though she teases, Kate feels safe with him behind the wheel. It gives her the chance to watch the work of his shoulders too, the way his nose crinkles in concentration every so often.

Castle parks the car and they get out, Kate reaching into the back for her coat. She goes through the whole routine, coat on and bag over her shoulder. When she comes around the front of the car to join her husband he straightens her lapel and eases her hair out from where it's gotten trapped beneath the collar, and then he takes her hand in his. Neither of them has bothered with gloves for the drive to the cabin and she lets him tuck her skinny fingers up against the meat of his bear paw to keep them warm.

Inside the rest stop building, Kate shifts the grip of their hands until their palms are clasped loosely. It's busy; people are migrating like salmon for the holidays, and Kate gets nudged by a man with five or six children trailing behind him in a line.

"Wow," Castle whispers, his breath hot against her ear, and Kate turns to look at him. "I always kinda wanted a big family, but now I'm thinking I was lucky to only have Alexis."

"He looks worn out doesn't he?" Kate murmurs back. A conspiratorial grin twitches at the seam of her lips as she snickers with her husband. The guy heads off towards Burger King with his brood in tow and Kate lays a palm against Castle's chest, darting in to steal a kiss from him before she steps away. "What do you want for lunch?"

"Are you going to Burger King?" he says, peeking past her at the line that snakes away from the counter and curves around the seating area.

Carding a hand through her hair, Kate presses her lips together and surveys their surroundings a little more thoroughly, wincing at the crowds. "Well, we're gonna have to wait for coffee anyway. Non-negotiable. So how about we just grab a sandwich or something too?"

"Works for me," he says easily. He keeps a tight hold of Kate's hand as they make their way to the back of the line for Starbucks. In front of them, a man waits to order with his daughter in his arms, and the baby peers at them from over her father's shoulder.

Kate pulls a goofy face and the baby laughs, her little face scrunching up with delight. She can feel Castle's eyes on her, but Kate is careful not to look at him as she puffs out her cheeks at the little one, crossing her eyes. The baby squeals, a tiny fist smacking against her dad's shoulder, and Kate laughs right back.

"She loves you," Castle chuckles. Untangling his hand from hers, he sneaks his palm underneath her coat to rest at the small of her back. "I'm a little jealous."

She turns to see him then, her smile for the baby still lingering, and Castle leans in to kiss her. He keeps it soft, his lips warm against hers. When he tugs away again she offers him a shy little tilt of her mouth. Kate lays her head against Castle's bicep, content to people-watch as they wait in line for their coffee and sandwiches.

"Know what you want?" he says when they get close enough to see the counter. Kate wraps her arm around his and curls her fingers at his bicep as she peruses the sandwiches on offer. "I'm getting the barbecue beef brisket."

"Because you want it, or because you like the alliteration?" she teases, knocking her temple against his shoulder when he huffs. He's cute when he gets disgruntled, and Kate kisses the swell of his bicep even though he won't feel it through the fabrics of his sweater and his button down. "I'll get the tomato and mozzarella panini."

He brushes his lips against her temple in a shadow of a kiss, his fingers hooked in the pocket of her coat as if he thinks she might stray from him. "Good choice. Your usual coffee?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Why don't you go get us a table then, and I'll order?" he suggests. Kate nods, fluttering her fingers in farewell to the baby that still watches them both with huge, unblinking eyes. She earns herself another gummy smile and then Kate steps away and heads in search of a table.

At first glance the entire place seems packed, but there's a small round table with two chairs tucked away in the corner and Kate heads for it, weaving through the throngs of people. She shucks out of her coat and drapes it over the back of one of the chairs, sinking to sit.

From here she's got a clear view of the whole seating area and she watches the various interactions between people. An old couple are taking turns to scowl at the rambunctious, happy toddler seated close to them. A teenager sits with her head bowed over her phone, thumbs tapping swiftly across the screen, and a man who must be her father does his best to make conversation.

Kate twists her engagement ring around and around her finger. She always loves getting to wear it, and she holds out her hand to admire the diamond for the millionth time. Across the room, she spots her husband making his careful way through the collection of tables, both hands tight around a tray that holds their coffee mugs and their sandwiches.

He finds her in the crowd immediately, and his whole face opens up with lovely, clean light. Castle manages to make it to her without colliding with anyone or dropping their lunch, and when he sinks down to sit he huffs a breath of relief and pulls his sweater off over his head.

"Good job snagging a table," he says. It's an inelegant dance to pass her plate and her mug over to her, the space of the little table entirely taken up with the tray. They manage, and Castle takes his own food and sets the tray on the floor out of their way. "I was gonna get you a hazelnut latte as a surprise, but the barista said they were fresh out of the syrup, so it's just your usual vanilla I'm afraid."

"I love vanilla," she laughs. Wrapping both hands around her mug, she lifts it to her mouth to sip. Kate lets her eyes slide closed and she hums, savouring the scald of the liquid on its way to settle into her belly. "Thanks for lunch, babe."

He's halfway through a mouthful of his sandwich and he widens his eyes at her, shielding his mouth behind his palm as he chews. With the other hand, he holds his index finger up to her to indicate that she should wait and she laughs, reaches out to draw his hand to her lips and kiss the tip of his finger.

"No problem," he says when he finally swallows, skimming his knuckles over the edge of her jaw as he draws his hand back. "How's your panini?"

It makes her realise that she hasn't started eating yet, too busy watching him. Kate takes a bite of her sandwich and chews slowly, relishing the blend of flavours. She gives Castle a thumbs up and he grins, busies himself with eating his own lunch.

They finish their sandwiches in silence, sharing secret smiles across the top of the table. Castle's eyes crinkle at the corners, those little creases of mirth so much more pronounced than when she first knew him. He wears his joy well, like an old friend, and she loves to watch how happiness leaves its mark on his skin as the years tick by.

"Ready to go?" he asks once she's drained the last dregs from her mug. Kate smiles, standing up from her chair and gathering their dishes onto the tray. She glances around, but there doesn't seem to be anywhere to put the dirty trays so she leaves it on the table. Draping her coat over one arm, she reaches for Castle with the other and tangles their fingers.

A couple of heads turn towards them as they weave their way through the seating area. She always imagines that it's because Castle is somewhat recognisable, but he insists that it's because Kate is an actual ex-model and people can't help but stare at her. Every time, it makes embarrassment bloom along the pale column of her neck and up into the very tips of her ears, and she has to kiss him to shut him up.

As they're leaving the building, a little girl maybe seven or eight years old goes crashing to the floor in her haste to keep up with her family. They're swept up in the flood of people, and the girl sits on her butt on the ground, gazing around herself as if she's astonished to be there.

Castle eases his hand out of Kate's grip and sinks to a crouch next to the girl, says something to her that Kate doesn't quite catch. She nods, swiping at her cheeks, and Castle gets to his feet again and helps the girl to stand up too.

He dusts off her knees, and by now the girl's mother has materialised and she palms the back of her daughter's head, thanking Castle for his kindness. The two disappear inside and Kate reaches for her husband's hand again, their palms clasped.

When they make it back to the car, Kate clutches tighter at Castle's hand when he tries to let go. Instead of breaking away from him, she slides her free arm around his neck and steps in close, lifting up onto tiptoe and letting her body settle against his for balance.

She kisses him, her tongue just darting out to touch at the corner of his mouth. Castle's fingers nudge their way into her hair and slide down, working at the knots in her nape. When she pulls back, Kate smoothes her thumb underneath his eye and smiles, sinking back down to flat feet again.

"I love you."

"Love you too, Mrs Castle," he grins at her, ducking out of the way when she tries to swat at his chest.

When Kate told him that she wanted to take his name, he had blinked furiously and turned his face away. She had wrapped both arms around him on a laugh and rocked him a little, murmuring soothing sounds against the crown of his head until he had managed to look at her again.

Meredith was already establishing her career as an actress, and Gina hadn't even considered it. That was her biggest motivating factor, really; she's still Beckett at the precinct, has built her career on the reputation of that name, but in their private lives she wanted to take his name. To show him just how much she's in this, that this is so different to his previous marriages.

For a long time - most of her adult life - she figured that if she did ever get married, she would keep her own name. Only, that name isn't really hers either; it's her father's, so becoming Mrs Castle felt more like blossoming into a new phase than her husband taking possession of her. It still makes her grouchy when he calls her that though, and more often than not she fires back with a glib remark about him being Mr Beckett.

"Are you driving now?" he asks. He steals another kiss from her lips and it shakes her right out of her distraction.

Kate sifts her fingers through his hair to push it back out of his face and she smiles, patting her husband's chest before she rounds the car and climbs in to the driver's seat.

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 **Tumblr:** katiehoughton

 **Twitter:** seilleanmor


	2. Chapter 2

**Living Out in the Snow**

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Kate cuts the engine and the whole world falls quiet around them. Castle's car is sleek and silent, and winter streaked in ribbons of frost past the windshield as it carved down the country roads, but even the throaty rumble of the engine was enough to disrupt the cacophonous swell of nature at the cabin.

"Still as stunning as I remember," Castle says from beside her, already unhooking his seatbelt and climbing out of the passenger side. When Kate first suggested that they come up here for the New Year, her husband had actually toppled half out of his barstool with excitement.

Castle had stumbled around to where she stood at the stove and kissed her, sweeping her back over his arm and professing that she was his favourite person in the world and _yes_ , of course he wanted to go the cabin with her. Their dinner had burned, and they'd had to order a pizza once Alexis got home, but it was so worth it.

Following her husband out of the car, Kate comes around the front of it and steps up behind Castle, sliding her arms around his waist and tucking both hands into the front pockets of his jeans. It's colder here than in the city and she hides her face against his sweater.

"I'm gonna go inside and light the fire," she murmurs. Castle twists awkwardly in her grip to try and see her. It makes her laugh and she tugs her hands free from his jeans, pushing them into the depths of her coat pockets instead. "We don't have heat. Just the fireplace, and then there's a couple of space heaters in the garage that my dad said we can use if we get cold."

"I'll get the luggage," he says. He darts in to kiss the very tip of her nose; it makes her blink and he laughs as he heads around to the trunk of the car.

Kate collects her purse from the back seat and rummages around for the keys to the front door. The ground has that strange, post-frost hardness to it and she stomps her feet a little as she heads up the porch steps at the front of the house and unlocks the door.

There's no wall of heat to hit them yet. All of the lights are off, and there's a soupy fog settled in the bowl of the mountains so that from here Castle is little more than a shadowy form. Stepping inside the cabin, Kate flicks on the lights in the living room and heads for the fireplace, sinking to her knees in front of it.

Her dad was here for Christmas, but he headed back to the city a couple of days ago to give Kate and Castle some space, let them enjoy the cabin for their first New Year as husband and wife. He's left them a basket of kindling next to the fireplace, a stack of old newspapers as well.

Tugging her cell phone free from her coat pocket, Kate is happy to see that she has a couple of bars and she taps out a quick text of thanks to her father, adds a couple of emoticons just because she finds it funny to see how confused they make him.

"Hey honey," Castle calls out. Kate rises from her crouch to come and join him in the entryway. "Do we need to get anything for the fire. Wood?"

"Nope, my dad left us enough for our time here," Kate smiles, shrugging out of her coat and draping it over one of the armchairs even though it's not really warm enough inside to do without it. "I spoke to him yesterday and he said there's a huge stack of logs in the garage for us, so we'll be fine. Don't worry."

He nods at that, drumming his fingertips against the handle of his bag, and Kate comes to his side to collect her own. Lifting up into him, Kate dusts a kiss to his lips, sipping at the cold that lingers there and he hums, one hand coming up and working its way into her hair. Winding an arm around his neck, Kate lets his tongue slick inside her mouth and she moans.

His hips jerk sharply into hers and Kate gasps, breaking away from their kiss on a little laugh. "Let's get the luggage put away and start the fire. And then we can christen the new bed."

After Kate told her father that she and Castle were together, and that they had spent a little time in the summer at the cabin, he had suggested that they donate her old twin bed and get a queen for her room. It's been here waiting for them for two years now, but they've never managed to come up to the cabin and see it.

"I brought sheets," she says. Opening her bedroom door, she flips on the light and wheels her suitcase inside. "Dad said he left it bare. Wasn't sure what we'd like. So I bought some new ones. I hope you don't mind that I chose them without you."

"Course not," Castle says, nudging his bag until it rests next to hers. He toes out of his sneakers and heads for the bed, does a little jump and flings himself onto the mattress. His body starfishes and he groans, wiggling to test the springs. "Oh, Kate, wow. Come here. Come feel."

She laughs at him, but she goes. Kate climbs onto the bed a little more gracefully than Castle did and stretches out beside him, her head pillowed in the crook of his arm. Her dad told her that he got them a memory foam mattress topper too, that he wanted them both to be comfortable here and she hums, turns her head to see Castle.

"I think we'll manage to sleep here just fine. I know it's not as huge as our bed at home, but-"

"We managed okay at your apartment, and this is about the same size," Castle butts in, rolling onto his side. It lets him get both arms around her and he brushes the hair back out of her face, lips coming to her forehead. "It's gonna be great. And now we don't have to feel weird about what we get up to."

Kate buries her face in Castle's neck so that he won't see the scald of embarrassment in her cheeks and the tips of her ears. For a little while after they got back to the city she couldn't quite look her dad in the eye, and she's glad that she and her husband no longer have to sleep in her parents' bed.

"Okay," he says. Tapping three fingers against the back of her shoulder, he gets her to sit up. Beside her, he rises and climbs right out of bed. "You do the fire, and I'll put the sheets on the bed. They in your bag?"

"Yeah," she says. Kate climbs off the mattress and heads for her suitcase. Unzipping it, she lays it flat and rummages around inside until she finds the package with their new sheets inside. Kate stands up straight again and passes them over to her husband, leaving him with a kiss to his cheek as she heads for the garage in search of some logs for their fire.

Her dad wasn't kidding; the stack in the garage is enormous and she chooses two from the top of the pile to carry back into the house with her. At the fireplace, Kate piles up some of the kindling from the basket, making sure to leave enough space between the pieces of wood that the air will be able to circulate. She scrunches up sheets of newspaper for tinder and sets them on top of the kindling, striking a couple of matches and tossing them into the fireplace.

The paper catches, and then the kindling starts to set alight too and Kate sits back on her heels, holding her palms out towards the mouth of the fireplace to warm them. Once the fire spreads properly through the kindling she sets the first, smaller log inside to burn and she moves for the kitchen to wash her hands.

Her dad has left the cabin liveable for them and there's a dishcloth hanging over the door of the oven that Kate dries her hands on. Already the living space is growing warmer and she heads for the armchair to grab her phone from her coat pocket, snapping a picture of her fire to send to her dad.

When she was a little girl, Kate always helped him light the fire each morning, cleaning out the tray of ash underneath and stoking it all day long, wandering through the woods to help him find more logs and twigs for kindling. It makes her feel girlish with pride whenever she manages to do it alone.

Two hands come to her hips and Kate leans back against the wall of Castle's chest, turning her head to see him. From this angle he's mostly chin and she laughs, closes her eyes. "You manage the sheets okay?"

"Yup," he says. His arms wind around her middle and he squeezes, making her huff a breath. "I love the pattern. You wanna redecorate our room at home?"

"We could do that," she says easily, breaking out of Castle's embrace. Kate heads for the couch and reaches down to unzip her boots, tucking them neatly out of the way against the body of the sofa. She wiggles her fingers at Castle and he comes to join her, toeing out of his own sneakers and kicking them away.

"How about we just don't move until we have to go back to the city?" he says. Draping an arm along the back of the couch, his fingers tuck inside the collar of her turtleneck in search of warm skin. Kate hums, drawing her legs up onto the couch and snuggling in against her husband's side.

Castle plays with her hair, sifting his fingers through the ends and winding a few strands into a braid, and she lets the drugging work of his fingertips against her scalp make her drowsy, send her half to sleep against his chest.

"Babe," she manages eventually, struggling upright and folding her legs beneath herself before she turns to face him. "I would love to stay here on the couch for the rest of the day, but we've got no food in the house and we're gonna need to eat at some point. How about we unpack and then drive into town, pick up some groceries?"

"Ugh, I hate unpacking," he grumps, but he stands up from the couch and offers her a hand to pull her to her feet as well. Castle keeps a tight hold on her fingers as they head for the bedroom and she tucks herself underneath his arm, lays a hand against his thigh to stop him.

The sheets she picked out are festive and cheery and they make her smile bloom wide. The duvet cover is cream with red poinsettia patterned across it, the pillowcases red with cream polka dots. She hates how so much Christmas themed decorating is so kitschy, and so she was so pleased with herself when she found this set.

Kate ducks into the closet for a second and comes back with her favourite woollen blanket. It's almost exactly the same red as the pillows and she drapes it artfully over the end of their bed. There's another throw pillow in the closet too, in the same thick knit as the blanket, and she arranges it against the headboard.

"What do you think?" She comes back to Castle in the doorway and huddles in close against his chest. The heat from the fire doesn't quite manage to permeate her bedroom, and every winter she spends at the cabin she has to sleep with the space heater on, but for now she's content to shelter against her husband's warmth.

"I love it. It looks so cozy. I almost want to go to bed right now."

She laughs and breaks away from him again, sinking to kneel on the floor and busy herself with emptying her suitcase. Kate tucks her hair back behind her ears, still even months after she cut it finding herself trying to sweep it to one side. "We can't, unless you don't want to eat."

"I still think your dad could have left us some food," he mutters as he comes to sit beside her and unzip his own bag. It always amuses her how neatly Castle packs and she pauses for a second to watch as he lifts a stack of sweaters carefully free from the suitcase.

"I told him not to," she says after a moment, fiddling with a loose thread at the toe of her sock. "The last time we were here we went grocery shopping together, and it was the first time we had. And I know we've done it hundreds of times since then and it's not so special anymore, but I still kind of wanted to."

Castle sets down the pair of jeans he's just freed from his suitcase and he knee walks over to her. Both arms wrap around her shoulders and he kisses her, the force of it almost knocking her over. She lies back, clinging tight to him to bring him down to the floor with her, and Castle rolls to protect her from the chill.

Draped over his body, Kate lets their kiss wind from lazy to frantic and back again, and when she eventually breaks away from his mouth she stays right where she is, his chest rising and falling in drugging time beneath her cheek.

"Hey," he says, skimming his fingers over the length of her spine, and she lifts up to prop her chin against him. "Don't need to blush, honey. I love the everyday domesticity of married life as much as you do."

"I know," she huffs, knocking her forehead against his jaw, and she lets him bring her upright, shifting to her knees. "And I'm not blushing."

She gets an arch of his eyebrow for that but he says nothing, heading back to his bag to finish unpacking. Kate follows suit, filling her drawer in the dresser with her clothes and hanging a couple of things in the closet. She dumps her wash bag on the counter in the bathroom and finds an outlet to plug in her phone charger, and then she settles herself cross-legged on the end of the bed to watch Castle.

He's got a stack of DVDs with him, his laptop, and what looks like travel versions of popular boardgames in a little tin. She knows he wasn't bored the last time they were here, that that's not what this is. Winter at the cabin is very different though, and the weather might keep them trapped inside the whole time, so this is smart.

"You bring enough toys?" she says wryly, arching an eyebrow at him and he looks up at her from his spot on the floor, his bag empty now.

Castle zippers it closed and wheels it into the closet to stand out of the way beside hers. Getting to his feet, he gathers up his things and disappears into the living room with them. Kate pads behind him and sits at the arm of the couch to watch him make a neat little pile of DVDs next to the bookshelves.

When he comes back to her she can only smile and his mouth turns down at the corners a little bit, his eyes narrowing. "What?"

"Nothing," she says. Tilting her head, Kate reaches for his hand and draws him in closer, her knees against his thighs. "You're cute. I'm happy."

"I'm happy too," he says on a whisper, not even smiling. He gets this way sometimes, so overcome with awe that he can only stare at her, and Kate arches up to kiss the corner of his mouth and shake him out of it. It works, and when she tugs back his lips quirk up and he cups a hand at each of her elbows to bring her to her feet. "Let's plan our meals for while we're here. Makes the grocery list easier that way."

She follows him to the kitchen island, settling to sit while he hunts in a drawer for a notepad and pen. When he comes to sit beside her Kate swivels and lays a palm against his thigh, propping her chin at his shoulder to watch him write.

He adds basic things to their list, milk and bread and cheese, and then he flips to a fresh page and writes out all of the days they're going to be here. "What do you want for dinner? Let's start with New Year's Day. Something special then."

"Chicken pot pie," she says immediately, turning her head to nudge her nose against Castle's cheekbone.

"Right, your tradition," he twists to see her and catches the corner of her mouth for an almost-kiss. Then he jots it down and flips back to the grocery list, writing down the ingredients they'll need to make it. "Mom's recipe still?"

She nods her affirmation and he smiles, tips his head to the side to nudge his temple against hers. They plot out the rest of their meals for their time here and they add a few random other things to their list, snacks for if they watch movies and some fruit for breakfast.

"That everything?" Castle asks. She nods, takes the pad from him. He always gets frustrated that he can't ever tear the page out without accidentally ripping it in half or crumpling it, so she does it for him and folds it neatly in half, slips down from the counter to put the notepad and pen away in the drawer.

When she comes back, Castle slips his hands into the back pockets of her jeans and reels her in close to stand between his thighs. His body is always so warm, so good, and Kate drapes her arms around his neck. "Wanna make out for a little while before we head into town?"

"Always yes," he grunts. He tugs on the waistband of her pants. One hand migrates to her thigh and clumsy fingers press into the meat of her leg as if he can't quite figure out what to do, how to have her.

Laughing, Kate curls her fingers in the collar of his plaid shirt and tugs him to his feet. One hand drops down and she hooks her fingers in his belt loop, walking backwards through the living space and bringing him along with her.

She sinks down to the couch as gracefully as she can manage to, snagging Castle before he can try to stop himself from falling on top of her. His weight presses her down into the cushions and she hums, draws a leg up and rakes her toes along the back of his calf.

Castle brushes her hair back out of her face and kisses her, one hand heavy against the side of her face and the other dipping lower, knuckles skimming the swell of her breast. Even through her shirt and her bra it makes her moan and arch into him, both hands clutching at his shoulders.

He tries to sink lower, his mouth open against the edge of her jaw, but he comes up against her turtleneck and he growls, pulling back to huff at her. "You know I love how you rock a turtleneck. I really do. But will you take it off?"

"Not taking it off," Kate shakes her head, her hair gaining static against the couch cushions, and she arches her neck to steal another kiss from his mouth. "Castle, I'm not getting naked right now. I'll only have to get dressed again to go to the grocery store."

"Kaaaate," he whines. His nose nuzzles against the ticklish place just underneath her jaw. His hips rock down into the cradle of hers and he kisses her again, his tongue hot and insistent in its lazy sweep through her mouth. "I want you."

Her fingers creep down between their bodies and brush against him and he groans, dropping his head to her clavicle. Taking pity on him, Kate smoothes her fingers against the back of his skull and kisses his crown, tenderness welling up in her chest.

"I want you too, babe. But- after the store, so we can have all night. A new bed to christen, hmm?"

"Alright, alright," he grumbles and lifts his head to see her again. "But I'm still not done kissing you."

He seeks out her mouth again and Kate sighs, her eyes fluttering closed as her husband works at her. He's got his palms either side of her head to keep his weight half off her, and she loves how he brings his teeth and tongue more into play when his hands are otherwise occupied.

Castle bites at her bottom lip and she gasps, her hips jerking sharply up against his. It's so good, every time so good, and when he finally breaks away from her mouth it's all she can do to lay gasping beneath the solid press of his body.

"We should-" he starts, sucking in a slow breath through his nose. It escapes as a breath of laughter and he sits upright, hooking both arms around her legs to haul them into his lap. "Find shoes and coats. Go get food. I wanna walk hand in hand with you."

"You always want to hold my hand," she laughs, still sprawled out across the couch cushions. Her turtleneck has gotten rucked up to just underneath her breasts and Castle's fingertips flirt with the plane of her stomach, curling into a fist so that he can knuckle the place just below her belly button that makes her fold sharply in two.

Kate pushes her shirt back down and sits up, dropping her feet to the floor and reaching down for her shoes. It leaves a little strip of skin exposed at her back and Castle tucks two fingers into the waistband of her jeans and wiggles them.

Turning over her shoulder, Kate scowls at him as she fastens the zipper of her boot and pushes her second foot inside the other shoe. "Stop. I promise, when we get back from town we can spend the rest of the day doing whatever you want."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he laughs. He reaches for his own shoes and pulls them on. His sweater is on top of her coat in the armchair and he shrugs it on over his head. He pops up from the collar like a turtle and Kate giggles, reaching for him and smoothing his hair down again. "Thanks."

He makes a detour to the kitchen island to get their grocery list and tuck it into his pocket, snagging his wallet and phone from the countertop as well before he comes back to her. Kate has her coat on now, scarf wound around her neck, and she collects her own cell phone from the coffee table and puts it in her pocket.

"Am I gonna need gloves or will you keep me warm?" she teases and Castle huffs a grumpy little noise, grappling for her hand.

"I've got you," he says. He squeezes her fingers, and she comes in close to kiss his cheek before she steals her hand back from him. "What about the fire? Don't want to burn the house down."

Kate heads to inspect the fireplace and snags the iron poker from the stand on the hearth. The stand that holds the fireside tools is an ornate thing, a gift from Kate's grandfather when her parents bought this place, and she rubs her thumb over the intricate metalwork at the handle of the poker.

The log breaks apart when she pokes at it and she turns over her shoulder to see Castle, beckons for him to come and join her on the floor. He sinks to his knees and she settles her palm at his thigh. "See how it's mostly embers? It'll retain all of the heat while we're gone, and it'll be a lot easier to get it going again once we're back, but it's not dangerous like this. Don't worry."

"Good," he says. He gets to his feet again and waits on her to hang the poker back on its stand. When Kate rises he kisses the flint of her cheekbone.

The car keys are hanging up in the entryway and Kate grabs them from the little hook and slips the ring of the keychain over her thumb, letting the keys themselves dangle against her hand. "Ready to go?"

"Yep," Castle says. He opens the front door for her and ushers her out onto the porch. There's no snow yet but the sky has that greyish mottle to it that makes her hopeful, makes her tip her face upwards on a grin. "You driving?"

"Got the keys," she says, showing them to him, and then she unlocks the car so that they can both climb inside.


	3. Chapter 3

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

"Hey honey," he calls down to the other end of the aisle, and Kate turns back around to face him. She went to go and find cereal while he browsed other breakfast things, ruminating over whether to get cinnamon bagels or the ordinary ones.

He went with both, and their cart is starting to get a bit ridiculous, but they're on vacation. Kate is this smiling, happy creature who haunts his side like a cheery spirit as they work their way through the store. Not once has she covered his hand in hers before he can add something to the cart and given him that look.

These days they've got something of a routine going. He's normally the one who does the grocery shopping, taking a photograph of the whiteboard tacked to the side of the fridge and consulting their list as he works his way around the store. He's the one who's got the time, but sometimes on Saturdays they'll make a special trip together and it becomes something wonderful.

Normally Kate will take the list and make her methodical way through the store to collect the ingredients they'll need for their dinners. Castle gets to browse and pick up everything else, snacks and new products he wants to try. They meet up at the end to compare, and he usually earns himself an eye roll for the amount of junk food he's picked up.

Today though, he pushes the cart and Kate sticks close, a hand curled around his bicep. Her cheek comes to rest against his whenever they stop in front of the shelves. She's in charge of the list, directing them on the most effective route around the store, and he's quite content to push the cart and brush his lips to the crown of her head whenever he gets the chance.

They move over onto the aisle with the fresh produce and Kate takes a few steps away from him, the paper with the list on it clutched in two fingers as she browses. She tilts her head at him and he pushes the cart closer to her side, picks up a bag of apples and some bananas.

He loves junk, but he's a dad and a husband and he has a deep, visceral respect for the importance of eating healthily. Kate's got her arms full of vegetables for the various meals they've planned and he smiles to see it, hurrying to help before she drops everything to the linoleum.

"Okay," she says as she adds a bag of carrots to their cart. "I think that's it. Was there anything else you wanted to get?"

He takes a second to scan their groceries, making sure that they've got things like ice cream and chips. Things that Kate pretends to be scornful of, but she always gets so grouchy when they don't have them. Satisfied, he peels one hand away from the cart and winds his arm around Kate's waist, hooking his fingers in her coat on the opposite side.

"I'm good with this. Do we need anything like soap or cleaning stuff?"

"Nope," she says. Kate untangles herself from around his arm and folds the list, tucks it into the back pocket of her pants. "My dad has the place well stocked with all that stuff. We just needed food."

He reaches for her hand, their palms clasped and his fingers curled around hers as they head for the cash register. There are only a couple of other people in the entire grocery store and Castle finds it a little creepy, keeps turning over his shoulder to check that they're not advancing on him.

Just before they make it to the register, a display of fireworks catches his attention and he tugs on Kate's hand to bring her to a stop. His other forearm is resting against the bar of the cart to help steer it and he leans over, the press of plastic against the soft place beneath his ribs making him huff a breath.

"Kate. Look."

"Babe, we can't do fireworks," she says gently, laying a palm against his back. He steps away from the cart, and catches her fingers so that she won't think he's trying to shrug her off. Moving closer, he peers at the display. "We'd end up setting the whole forest on fire. Too dangerous."

He nods, but he reaches for a packet and tugs it free from the little rail to show to her. "I know. No fireworks. But we could do sparklers, right? On New Year's."

"We can," she laughs. She takes the package of twelve sparklers from him and adds it to their cart. "I love these. My mom, my dad and I always had contests to see who could write their name the quickest."

"Alexis and I do that too," he smiles. Reaching for her again, he draws her in close. A kiss to her cheek, and he stays a moment to breathe in the smell of her. Already she's drenched in clean mountain air and he sucks a breath through his nose that makes her laugh, her elbow nudging at him.

He lets her take the cart then, follows along behind her as she heads back towards the cash registers. Castle watches carefully, but there's no blip of recognition on the face of Kate or the kid serving them, so he assumes the gangly teen is one of the only people in town that Beckett doesn't know.

Kate has a strict system about unloading things onto the conveyer belt and then packing them again at the other end, but he's done this with her enough times that he can help without incurring that little twitch of her eyebrow, the prickling stare.

After everything is packed up neatly in the sturdier, reusable grocery bags that Kate found in the glove compartment of the car, Castle passes his card over to the cashier and signs when he's asked to. Tucking his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans, he wishes the cashier a good afternoon and scampers to catch up with his wife as she heads away from the register.

He remembers that first time they came here, how he found himself constantly jabbering away. Silence terrified him back then, but now it's easy. He helps Kate load their bags into the trunk of the car, rubbing the palms of his hands together to work some feeling back into them.

"Hey," she says after she slams the trunk closed. Her hands are tucked into her coat pockets, shoulders up next to her ears to protect the exposed skin from the frigid mountain air. "Wanna grab a hot chocolate to go from Joe's?"

"Oh, yes please," he grins. Castle snags one of her hands from the pocket of her camel coat. He tucks her fingers in close against his palm, squeezing them in his and wishing he had a coat himself instead of just the thick bulk of his sweater.

They head across to the other side of the parking lot and enter the diner. It's deliciously warm inside and Castle wiggles like a snug grub. Joe is at the counter chatting to a man Castle doesn't recognise, but when he sees them come inside he tosses the dishcloth in his hands into the air and lets it fall back to the countertop, hurrying around to greet them.

"Katie Beckett, my goodness me, look at you," Joe says. He's got a hand at each of Kate's shoulders to hold her at arm's length and take her in. She laughs, dipping her chin, and her eyes dart to the side as if she's making sure that Castle hasn't left.

He's still got her hand in his and he squeezes, feels his whole face transforming with pride. His lovely wife, and every head in the diner is swivelling to see her. Joe is beaming and he hauls Kate into a hug so that Castle has to let her hand go. Her arms wind around her friend and she smiles at Castle from over Joe's shoulder.

"Now," Joe says when he lets her go again, an exaggerated frown creasing his forehead until two parallel lines spring into existence between his brows. "I have a bone to pick with you two. The last time you were here you promised that you'd be back soon, and it's been two and a half years Katie."

"I know," Kate says. She enfolds one of Joe's hands in both of hers and giving him her very best placating look. "A lot has happened since we were here last."

That makes Joe snort on a laugh and flip his hand under Kate's, inspecting her left. "Tell me about it. I can't believe you got married. Little Katie, all grown up."

"Sorry we couldn't invite you to the wedding," Castle says. His wife takes a step closer to him and he winds an arm around her shoulders. Usually she's not a fan of him hanging all over her when they're with other people, but today it's cold and they're both still brimming with the magic of the season and she only smiles, laying her cheek against his chest. "In the end it ended up only being my mother, my daughter and Kate's dad."

"Lovely," Joe says, smiling at them again. "Nice and intimate. That's perfect for you Katie. From what Jim's told me, Rick himself is pretty perfect for you."

He feels his chest puffing up, but there's nothing at all he can do to stop it, or the spread of his smile. "Kate's father talks about me?"

"Oh yes, Jim's always telling us about the two of you. Going on and on about his Katie never being happier, about how proud he is to have you for a son-in-law, Rick."

"Wow," he breathes, clutching at Kate so that he can stay standing. He knows that Mr Beckett doesn't hate him, that he thinks he and Kate are a good match, but to hear that Kate's father is proud of him makes him feel like a little kid.

Kate's fingers drum a merry pattern against his thigh and she turns her head to look at him, her smile trapped in the very corners of her mouth. "Babe, come on. You know my dad loves you."

"Right," he gruffs out, has to cough, and then Kate and Joe are both laughing at him. It does shake him out of his awe a little bit though and he manages a smile, cards a hand through his hair.

"Can I get you two something to eat?" Joe offers, already reaching behind himself for a couple of laminated menus.

He holds them out and Castle takes one, but Kate shoots him a look and he passes it dutifully back over to Joe. Kate's still got one hand against his thigh and she brings it up now, tucks it between Castle's arm and his body.

"We've got groceries in the car," Kate says in apology, flexing and curling the fingers of her free hand to get the feeling back. The tip of her nose is pink, her eyes bright and a little watery from the wind, and she sniffs. "We just came in for some hot chocolate to go, warm us up a bit."

"Molly," Joe calls out to one of the waitresses. She comes over to them, running a hand over the neat blonde length of her French braid. "Could you do two hot chocolates to go, with all the trimmings. On the house, doll."

The waitress - she must be only a few years younger than Alexis - nods at Joe and darts off behind the counter to fix their drinks for them. Joe tugs on Kate's elbow to have her sit at one of the barstools. Castle follows, staying on his feet and propping a hand against the back of Beckett's chair so that his wife can lean against his arm.

"Katie doll, your dad told me all about the wedding. Showed me the pictures. You looked just beautiful. Johanna would have been so proud."

"Thank you Joe," Kate says, turning to look at Castle again. He kisses her, can't help himself. Every time somebody mentions their wedding he remembers all over again how perfect she looked in that amazing outfit, how they danced together as the sun sank into the ocean.

He doesn't linger in their kiss, not in front of her friend. Instead Castle wraps both arms around her and covers her hands in his, a little concerned about the blueish tinge to her slender fingers. "She looked stunning, didn't she?"

"Stop," she huffs, knocking her temple against his cheek. He laughs and lets her wriggle her way out of his embrace.

The waitress sets two travel cups on the counter and Castle reaches into his pocket for his wallet only to come up against Joe's wave of dismissal. "No, no, they're on me."

"You have to let us pay sometimes," Kate says, reaching for sternness and falling just short. She wraps both hands around her cup and lifts it, propping her chin on top of the plastic lid to let the warmth seep over the bones of her skull. Next time they leave the house, he's making her wear a hat.

"Think of it as a belated wedding present, then," Joe says, his eyes creased with amusement. His face is lined and sun-spotted, his hair a shock of white that's still impressively thick, but there's no frailty to him. "You guys should get going, don't want your groceries to go bad."

They say their goodbyes, promise to drop in again before they head back to the city. Castle drums his fingertips against the sleeve of his cardboard cup as they head back across the parking lot. "The car's probably about as cold as a freezer, you know."

"I know," Kate laughs, juggling her hot chocolate and the keys until she gets the car unlocked. "Which is why you're driving. I can't feel my fingers."

He takes the keys from her and slips into the driver's seat, cranking up the heat as high as it'll go. Kate adjusts the vents until they blow against her fingers and she splays them, her belt already fastened. Castle gives them a minute to let the car get warm and then he clicks his own seatbelt into the fastener and starts the engine. He's driven this route a couple of times now, and he's fairly confident he knows what he's doing, but he darts a glance to Kate as he pulls out of the parking lot just to be sure.

The town melts away into forest, the occasional driveway coming up like a gaping mouth, and he's happy to let them be silent for a little while. Christmas was tough this year; it was only a few days before that he was unceremoniously kicked out of the precinct, landing hard on his ass in the gutter.

They'd both been too cheerful, fighting too hard to shake off their melancholia, and he hopes that these few days at the cabin can be a chance for them both to come to terms with the fact that when Kate goes back to work on January fifth, he won't be going with her.

He has some things in the pipeline, an idea he's keeping tucked away to let it gestate, but there's nothing concrete except the fact that whatever happens, he'll be missing her.

When he darts a glance at Kate she has one hand pulled up and fisted against her chin. It makes her bottom lip jut out in a cute little pout as she stares out of the window, but he's not looking for either of them to spend their New Year's grumpy and miserable.

"You know I love you," he starts, and Kate shifts in her seat to face him, arches a brow. "So I understand how easy it is to be completely smitten with you. But Kate, everyone here adores you. Everyone. It's kind of amazing."

"They watched me grow up," she says. Kate takes a sip of her hot chocolate; the colour is coming back into her face now and she's less hunched, her body almost sprawling in the seat. "They've known me for such a long time. And I guess when my mom died, they all kind of wanted to try and take care of me."

He nods at that, doesn't push her to elaborate any more. Kate is his wife now, and although he does sometimes still have to nudge at her she mostly shares what's in her heart without much prompting these days.

When they make it back to the cabin they unload the groceries together, Kate taking charge of everything that goes in the fridge while Castle handles the cabinets. He loves that feeling of tugging open the door to see the shelves spilling over with food, and once they're done he captures Kate in a hug.

"Hungry for dinner yet?"

"Mm, no, not yet," she says, tugging back enough to see his face. One hand comes up, her fingers nibbled with frost from the freezer and making him yelp when she touches his cheek. She only laughs and comes in to kiss him, tugging on his ear to have him bend over her. "Hungry for you."

He opens his mouth against the spot high up in her jaw that makes her cant into him and Kate gasps, both hands fisting in his sweater. Head tilted, her eyes flutter closed and she purrs at the work of his tongue, a little graze of his teeth making her shudder.

"Let's go christen our new bed," he growls, palms at her ass and his fingers kneading at the meat of her butt. She does a little hop to warn him and then she jumps, legs around his waist and her arms draped loose and lazy around his neck.

He takes an experimental step backwards and then, confident he's not about to lose his balance and send them both to the floor, he strides for their bedroom and those amazing, cosy sheets.

* * *

"I don't think I want to get up," Kate says. Beside him in bed, she rolls onto her back and drapes an arm over her face, hiding her eyes. "Maybe ever again. This bed is amazing."

Castle rolls to one side and lifts himself up on one elbow, chin propped in the cup of his palm. He traces a line down from the hollow of Kate's throat all the way to where milky skin disappears beneath their sheets, dipping into her belly button as he bisects her abdomen. It makes her sigh and she drops her arm, rests it behind her head instead.

Her other hand lands at her stomach and she rubs her thumb against her wedding band as if to warm the metal. She's wearing the engagement ring too, has been for their entire Christmas break, and it makes him smile and snag her fingers in his. Bringing them to his mouth, Castle kisses her knuckle and then lets her have her hand back.

"Your dad chose well," Castle says, splaying a hand over Kate's ribcage. She's so slender, a sleek and liquid curve, and the span of his fingers reaches almost from clavicle to hip. "Although I'm not sure I want to tell him that. The less talking to your father about the bed you and I share, the better."

She snorts on a laugh and snags his hand in hers, bringing it up to her lips so that she can touch them to his palm. Kate folds his fingers closed over her kiss and rests his hand back against his own chest, leaves hers on top. Her thumb skims back and forth over his knuckles.

"Babe, you're my husband. I think my dad's aware that we're having sex."

"Yes," he grunts, wiggling his toes to siphon off some of the joy before he explodes with it. It makes the sheets billow, lets cold air come roaring in to their nest and Kate scowls at him, kicking at his feet to make him stop moving. "But trust me, as a father to a daughter, it's better to try and live in blissful ignorance."

"Alexis is having sex?" Kate blurts out, fumbling half upright in their bed. She lands against the headboard, looking a little beached, and he yanks on her to get her back underneath the comforter again.

"I- maybe?" he starts, scrunching up one side of his face in not-entirely-false horror. "I mean, she lived with Pi. And I don't know if she- do you think she would tell me? If she was."

Laying a hand against his chest, Kate lets her fingertips flirt with the dip between his collar bones and she tilts her head to regard him. "I really don't know. I mean, I didn't tell my dad when I started having sex. But then I'm not as close with him as you and Alexis are. Who else would she go to about it? Your mom?"

"God I hope not," he grumps, scrubbing a hand over his face and collapsing flat to the mattress. He doesn't exactly mind if Alexis is having sex; she's smart, and she's a grown woman and he trusts her. Only, she's still his baby girl and he really, really doesn't want to think about it. "I'm hopeful that she'd go to you."

"I can talk to her if you want?" Kate suggests. "Just tell her that I'm here if she has any questions that she doesn't want to ask you."

His heart squeezes tight in his chest and he snakes a palm around to cup the back of her neck, draws her down into his kiss.

When they break apart Kate grins at him, that wide and so pleased curve to her lips, and she tugs the sheets up over her breasts. One hand fists in the top of the comforter to tuck it underneath her chin and suddenly she's a girl again, peering at him as she doses. "My dad keeps dropping these not-so-subtle hints about grandkids. I think he'd be delighted to know how much sex we're having."

"Still," he says. He burrows down under the covers and shifts across the mattress until he can feel the warmth of Kate's skin. "If I'm ever going to look him in the eye again then it's best to avoid that conversation."

Two fingers come to his shoulder and she pushes on him until he rolls onto his back, his head falling into the gap between the pillows on either side. He huffs and shifts over, makes himself comfortable on his own side of the bed, and Kate drapes herself on top of him, one leg hooked over his.

She shivers, and he tugs the sheets up a little higher, his arm around her and his fingertips tracing up and down the length of her upper arm. "Are you cold?"

"Yeah," she admits, her hand preemptively at his stomach to stop him from moving away from her. "It's fine though. Once we get the fire going again and then the space heater in here for tonight, we'll be nice and toasty."

"And clothes," he teases, earning himself the dart of her tongue against his nipple and the slow rake of her toes up the length of his shin.

It's good like this; he's not really cold at all with her draped all over him, and he could happily stay here for the rest of the day. She shivers again though, the cold tip of her nose pressed against his throat and he sits up.

"Come on. Let's get you warm."

He climbs out of bed and heads for his drawer in the dresser, pulling on his pajamas. It's only four in the afternoon, but he's not planning on going anywhere else today. Kate comes to his side at the armoire, her body rattling with the cold press of the air in the room, and he steps out of the way to let her find her own pajamas.

She's got thick woollen socks too and she tugs them on, grabs his sweater from the floor and pulls that on over her head as well. Snagging two fingers in the waistband of her plaid pants, Castle reels her back in close and winds his arms around her, tucking her underneath his chin.

Like this, all padded in hundreds of layers, she's utterly adorable. He kisses the top of her head, and then her forehead when she tips her chin up to see him. Kate's been a snuggler pretty much since they got together, but in the handful of weeks that they've been married she's sought him out constantly, curling up with him whenever she has the chance.

"Okay," he says, a hand at the back of her neck and squeezing as if to propel her into action. "Plan for this evening. You go get the fire going again, and I'm going to build us a nest on the couch. Then we'll cook dinner, and watch a movie while we eat. Sound good?"

"Sounds great."


	4. Chapter 4

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

"Wow that smells good," Kate says. He turns away from the stove to see her around the other side of the island, her hipbones flush against the wood of the countertop. Leaning over it like this, hands clasped and forearms propped at the counter, she looks eager and girlish.

Her face is flush from dealing with the fire, her hair caught up in a messy knot at the nape of her neck, and even drowning in his sweater she's effortlessly stunning.

"It's beef stew," he says uselessly. Kate knows that, was a warm weight at his shoulder as they planned their meals for their mini vacation. "Ready to go in the oven now, but it's gonna take a couple hours to get really tender."

"That's fine, I'm not starving yet," Kate laughs. She peels away from the counter and comes around to stand with him, opens the oven door so he can put the casserole dish inside. "While we wait for it, will you come outside with me?"

Castle wipes his hands off on a dishcloth and dumps it on the countertop, rests his newly clean palms at Kate's hips to reel her in. "We're in pajamas, honey. You'll freeze."

"Just for five minutes. We'll put coats on. Blankets too if you want. I just want to go out there."

"Okay," he says. His arms slide around her. Kate slots herself neatly underneath his chin, her arms looped at his waist and palms splayed at his back. Tucking her feet between his, Kate hides her face against the material of his pajama shirt, and he feels her sigh as a warm breath.

"What's wrong?"

It takes her a second, but when she tugs away from him Kate has a smile ready and both hands come up to frame his face. Her thumb skims over his bottom lip and she watches the work of her own hand, her eyes devastating in their liquid sorrow. "I'm gonna miss you."

"Hey," he says, ducking to catch her line of sight. Two fingers at her chin, he nudges her face upwards and leans in to kiss the corner of her eye, his other hand migrating to the back of her head. "You don't have to miss me. I'll see you every morning for breakfast, and I'll be there every day when you come home. Remember, you said once it might be good to be a normal couple and have something to talk about over the dinner table."

"Yeah," she huffs, but her smile is shifting into her eyes now. She narrows them at him, mischief haunting the corners of her mouth. "And remember how well that turned out? You almost died, Castle."

"But I didn't," he fires right back, grinning. He earns himself an eye roll and a swat to the chest, and she scarpers away before he can snag a hold of her.

He finds her in their bedroom, tucking the bottoms of her plaid pants into her thick hiking socks. Castle follows her lead, finds his own socks in the drawer and pulls them on clumsily, not bothering to sit. He almost topples and Kate snorts at him, but he succeeds.

Ducking into the entryway, he finds her hiking boots on the shoe rack and brings them back to her in the bedroom, kneels at her feet. She always says that it's easier to lace them tightly if she's got something to brace against and he offers her his thigh, holds the boot still while she wiggles her foot down inside.

"I should get some of these. Leave them up here with yours."

"Remind me when we get back to the city," Kate says. She pulls her laces tight and knots them, tucking the loose ends down inside the shoe. "I'll take you to my favourite camping store and we'll get you some."

He grins at that, does a little wiggle. With boots comes the promise of more trips to the cabin, the rest of their lives together with this place a sanctuary. The last time, when poison ivy almost took him out, Kate had knelt on the floor of the bathroom in the middle of the night and talked about them coming here with their little ones.

It wouldn't have been real if not for the moon's huge, unblinking eye gazing in at them through the window, and now he feels as if he has a witness. Somebody else who knows it to be true.

"All good?" he asks once Kate has the laces of her second shoe fastened. She nods, drops her feet from his thighs and drums them against the floor in her heavy boots. It makes him laugh as he gets to his feet, and he darts in to steal a kiss from her. "I want you to wear a hat. Please."

"I was planning on it." She reaches behind herself to show him the grey knit beanie she's picked out. Kate heads for the living room with the hat in her fist, and he watches until she's no longer in his line of sight.

By the time she comes back he's got his sneakers on and he's shrugging a coat over his shoulders, winding a scarf around his neck. Kate's wearing her camel coat from earlier and that same tartan scarf, and with the hat jammed down over her head and her pajamas underneath she looks like a little kid.

"You bundled up enough?" he asks. Reeling her in with a fist in each of her lapels, he fastens her zipper for her and the three poppers that hold the fabric closed, tugging on the top of her scarf until it reaches almost to her jaw. "I don't want you to freeze."

"Not gonna freeze."

She's grinning, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waits on him. Castle fastens his own jacket, careful to tuck the tails of his scarf out of the way of the zipper's silver teeth, and once he's done he reaches for her hand.

Kate flicks off the bedroom light on their way out of the room, turning off all of the switches as they move through the living space, and by the time they make it out onto the back porch the house is in darkness. The oven glows like a hearth from back in the kitchen, but out here the night is pitch and he clings tight to her hand.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust from the light inside, but when they do the sky suddenly rushes away from him, fathoms deep and pricked with tiny holes to let the light of the universe come spilling through.

"Come with me," Kate says softly, and he follows along at her side as she picks her way down the path to the lake.

On their way through the house Kate snagged a throw blanket from the back of the couch, an enormous faux fur thing that reminds him of his mother. Folding it in half, Kate lays it out on the wooden slats of the dock and sinks to sit, patting the spot next to her.

He goes, makes himself comfortable next to his wife, and Kate nudges his shoulder to get him to lay on his back. Castle folds an arm beneath his head and wraps the other around her, tucks her in close against his side.

"You do this a lot?"

"A couple times," she says, half hiding her face against him. It's a still night, and the lake is a frozen sheet stretching out beneath them. "My dad said he checked the ice and he thinks it could be thick enough for us to skate. You brought yours with you right?"

"I did," he says. He kisses her forehead because she's right there and she's beautiful in the moonlight. The cold is a distinct copper-taste in his throat and he shivers, clutches a little tighter at her. "You bring your lovely neons?"

She snorts at that, knocking her head into his chest. "Castle, I threw those out years ago. I've got those pastel blue ones now, remember from last year at Rockefeller?"

"Oh yeah," he says. He sifts his gloved fingers through her hair. It makes static, and she crackles in the electric night. He waits, but she doesn't seem to mind and it helps his fingers to keep from going numb if he can move them. "Did you throw them out because of Will?"

"Yes," she says on a little huff. He laughs, and she tries to roll away only to come up against the tight clutch of his arm beneath her. Castle clings, and after a moment she relaxes against him again. "You know, it's weird. I kept them after the relationship ended and it was fine. But when I saw him again during that case and he mentioned them, I got home and I found them in the closet and I couldn't bear to look at them."

Castle stiffens beneath her, and he tucks his fingers inside of her scarf. "I hated seeing you kiss him. I know I joked, and I told you it was fine, but it stung. Up until that point, I thought that you were playing hard to get or something, that it was a game between us. And then you kissed Will and I realised that you just didn't want me."

"Oh, no, babe," Kate says. She lifts up on one elbow to loom over him. Her hat has gotten a little lopsided from laying on his arm and it covers half of one eye, makes her blink rapidly and push the beanie higher up her forehead. "I always wanted you. Want wasn't the issue, it was- I was scared. Of what happened after you stopped wanting _me_."

"We are both ridiculous," he says on a laugh, doesn't want them to get mired down in things that happened nearly six years ago. "Come here."

His palm lands between her shoulder blades and he nudges on her until she lays flat with him, her body half draped over his now. Castle lets his knuckles skim up and down the length of Kate's spine and he kisses the top of her head. Kisses the hat really, and it makes her giggle.

"My husband now," she whispers, rolling off his chest to lay on her back beside him. The arm beneath his head is starting to go numb and he shifts to lay flat, drapes that arm over his stomach instead. Kate reaches for his fingers and laces them together with hers, a little bit clumsy around both of their gloves. "I love you."

"I know," he grins, and when he rolls his head to one side to see her he gets the white flash of her own smile in the dark.

They're quiet for a little while; he's paying close attention to Beckett at his side, and the moment she starts to shiver they're going back into the house. For now though, he's happy to lay here and let the bones of his face grow slowly numb, the whole world silent and on its humbled knees around them.

"If you stay here long enough," Kate starts, and he peeks at her. She's staring up at the sky, and he's momentarily distracted by the swell of her lips. "You can actually see the earth rotate."

He does as he's told, and after a few minutes he starts to feel vertiginous with it and he scrambles to cling on to his wife, hides his eyes with a palm over them. "I'm dizzy."

"We should go inside," she laughs. Kate sits up, drumming two woollen fingers against his chin until he peeks at her. She's got her legs drawn up, one arm around them and her cheek squished against her kneecap, and he gets upright to kiss her.

Castle gets to his feet and hauls Kate up as well, rough so that she'll stumble into him and he'll get to catch her, have the line of her body press in close to his. He bends to snag the blanket from the ground and shakes it to make sure no gross winter bugs are clinging to the fur, folds it over one arm.

His free hand reaches for Kate's and he clasps their palms, the loose grip of their hands swinging between them as they head back to the cabin. She bounces up the porch steps, already unfastening her coat, and inside she shucks out of it and dumps it on the couch.

Sinking to her knees in front of the fireplace, she pokes around a bit and adds another log. He hovers, peeling out of his own jacket and scarf as he watches her.

"Will you teach me how to do that?"

"Build the fire?" she asks, sitting back on her heels. She's still intent on the fireplace, watching to make sure that the flames catch, but the bubble of her awareness has flared out to include him. "Sure. Tomorrow? Then I can show you from scratch."

"Sounds good," he says. Castle smoothes his fingers over the back of her skull and then plucks the hat from her head. She grunts, finally twists to look at him. He arches an eyebrow at her in challenge and Kate rises slowly to her feet and steps in close.

She's predatory, her hips swaying as she advances, and he gulps. In the next second Kate's teeth come to his throat, a scrape against his jugular, and he drops the hat to clutch at her.

Their kiss builds slowly, Kate's tongue a scalding, seeking thing through his mouth and he opens to her, scrambles to get his hands underneath her shirt. He skims his knuckles up her abdomen and around, grazes the sides of her breasts to make her gasp.

"Castle," she breathes, her hips rocking against his thigh between her legs. He fists his hands in the sweater she stole from him, tugs it up over her head along with her pajama shirt. No bra, and she stands gloriously naked and unashamed in front of him. "How long has the stew got?"

"Hour at least." Kate winds her arms around his neck. Her skin is cool when he smoothes his fingers across the plane of her back and he closes his arms around her in an embrace, turns them a little more towards the fire. "We've got time. Bed?"

She pushes on his shoulders and it takes him a second but he gets it, sinks to his knees on the floor. Kate's following right along behind him, snagging the throw from the couch on her way. She snaps her wrists to lay it out across the floor, lays herself out on top of it.

"No. Here. By the fire."

He laughs, but she's wanton beneath him and her hips are lifting uselessly, and when she hooks a leg around his and yanks it's all he can do to crash against her and find her mouth again.

* * *

His stomach rumbles and Kate laughs, her cheek against his bicep. They didn't make it off the floor, and with the fire crackling next to them he hasn't even been sent to go and find another blanket. His entire right side is uncomfortably warm, his skin prickling, but Kate is sheltered against his left.

He was the one on his back and even with the throw underneath them his shoulders are protesting, but his wife is making these soft little purrs of satisfaction every so often. A fingertip is tracing swirling designs on his stomach and Castle doesn't have a single regret to carry with him.

"Stew might be done by now," he says. Kate nods, but makes no move to get up. They haven't turned any of the lights back on, and with his body blocking her from the fire she's mostly in shadow. "Hungry now?"

"Yeah."

He sits up, leaves her sprawled like a Pre-Raphaelite across the blanket as he goes in search of his pajama pants. A shirt too, because away from the mouth of the fireplace the cabin has a chill that it can't seem to shake.

Castle passes Kate's pajamas over to her and watches her get dressed, the awkward way she contorts so that she doesn't have to get up to put her pants on. Once she's done he offers her a hand and brings her to her feet with him, straightens the lopsided sit of her shirt.

"I might go and dig out one of the space heaters now. Get it set up in our room before bed."

"It's not even seven," she laughs, but she follows along behind him as he heads for the garage.

The temperature plummets several degrees as they step through the door and he shivers, motions for her to stay in the threshold. He finds the heaters in their boxes without much trouble and he brings one back with him, happy to close the door to the garage behind himself.

"I'll do it," Kate says, taking the box from him. She disappears behind it and he laughs, peeks around to see her again. "I know the best spot for it to be in. You go and deal with dinner."

He heads to the kitchen and busies himself with cooking the green beans to go with their dinner, chopping off the browning ends and adding them to the pot of water. Castle watches over the stove as they simmer, head cocked to listen to his wife as she sings to herself in the bedroom.

After a handful of minutes Kate reappears and settles onto a barstool to watch him, her chin propped in her palm. Her makeup has disintegrated through the day and she swipes her fingers underneath her eyes, nose wrinkling when they come away black.

"I was going to make real mashed potatoes," he says, tugging open the refrigerator. He comes back with a carton and he sets it on the island in front of Kate, scrunches his face up. "But I figured we'd be busy doing, uh, other things. And I know you hate instant. But I found this."

"Pass it." She wiggles her fingers at him and he gives the carton a little push, sends it travelling across the counter until it reaches Kate. "You cook them in the microwave?"

He nods, stretching over the countertop to take the container back from Kate. "Yeah. Takes five minutes or so. I know it won't be as good as the real thing, but if I add some butter and some cheese, and with the stew as well, it shouldn't be too bad."

"Babe," she laughs, slipping down from her stool to come to him. Kate winds her arms around his waist, her fingers interlocked at his back, and she smiles up at him. "You cooked. And you know I love your cooking. I'm sure it'll be delicious."

"Let's hope," he says, darting in to steal a kiss from her. The timer on his phone goes off and he turns in the circle of Kate's arms to swipe a finger across the screen and silence it. "Beans are done. Would you drain them while I handle the potatoes?"

They work in easy tandem, chattering about the boys at the precinct and how adorable Sarah Grace was when they got to see her just before Christmas. Almost a year old now, and when the baby had snuggled down against Castle's chest an age-old yearning had come awake in his belly.

And then Kate had taken her, whispering to their niece and dusting soft kisses to the fair cap of the baby's hair, and he had clutched at the counter just to stay on his feet. He wants it for them, wakes sometimes in the middle of the night with that sleepy smell of baby powder and milk haunting him.

"Okay, I'm done," he says once he's got the mashed potatoes in a bowl, some butter and cheese and a little splash of milk mixed through. He adds seasoning as well and scoops some of the potatoes onto a fork, holds it out for Kate.

Her lips close around it and she takes a second to really taste before she smiles at him, humming around her mouthful and offering him a thumbs up. "These are good. Not as good as the ones you make from scratch, but still delicious."

"Are we eating at the table?"

"Probably easiest," Kate says, taking the bowls of potatoes and green beans and heading to the dining table with them. She comes back to get a trivet from one of the kitchen drawers and sets it in the middle of the table, glances back at him. "Wanna just put the casserole dish on the table and we can serve ourselves?"

Castle snags the oven mitts from where they're hanging over the door and pulls the dish out, carries it carefully over to the table. He takes the lid off and Kate leans over the pot and sucks in a breath through her nose, moaning her approval.

"This smells amazing."

"Let me get you a plate," he laughs, squeezes her shoulder on his way past. He makes a couple more trips, brings plates and cutlery and then a glass of wine for each of them, and then finally he can sit opposite his wife.

They serve themselves a plateful each and Castle lifts his wineglass to her, waits for her to clink her own glass against his. "To the cabin, and to our first New Year's as husband and wife."

"To us," he echoes, just to see the twin spots of colour appear high up in Kate's cheeks.

This might be his favourite part of each day with his wife. Sitting down to dinner, smiling at her from across the table, hearing about her day. Even if they've had a case and he's spent every moment of it with her, he likes to come together over their meal and discuss it with her, hear her insights.

"Castle this is so good," she says around a forkful of stew and he grins at her, spears a couple of green beans and pops them into his mouth.

"Want to watch something tonight? I kind of want to curl up on the couch."

That makes her laugh and her bare foot slides along the floor until it meets his, her toes wiggling at the top of his foot. "You always want to curl up on the couch."

"Well don't you?" he huffs, but one corner of his mouth is betraying him, tugging up into a smile. She returns it, spearing a green bean on the end of her fork and dragging it through the last of the potatoes and gravy on her plate.

"Yes," she admits once she's finished her mouthful. "I do."

She waits on him to finish eating and then they begin the cleanup process together. He takes charge of the dishes, standing over the sink to wash them. With the lights on in the kitchen he can see everything Kate is doing behind him in the window over the sink, and he watches as she potters around.

She wipes down the surfaces and packages their leftovers into a Tupperware container, leaves it on the counter to cool down before it can go in the refrigerator. Once she's done, she comes to stand beside him as he finishes up with the last of the dishes.

"You know I love Martha and Alexis," she starts, reaching out to skim her fingers over his forearm where he's got his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. "But it's nice to have a place to ourselves. To. . .have you, without worrying about one of them walking in on us."

"Mm, yeah," he groans, drying his hands on a fresh dishcloth and stepping away from the sink. He snags Kate's hand and brings her with him over to the couch, nudges her to sit while he ducks back towards their bedroom to grab the throw blanket from the end of their bed.

Castle settles himself on the couch, an arm around Kate's waist to haul her back against him. She wriggles until she's comfortable in his lap and he drapes the blanket over them both, reaches with his free arm for his laptop where he dumped it on the coffee table.

"I have a bunch of movies saved on here. Scroll through, see what you feel like. And if not I brought some DVDs too."

"I'm sure we'll find something," she says, shifting to take the computer from him and rest it against her thighs. Kate scrolls through the folder that has all his movies, pausing on a few, and eventually she laughs and drops her head back against his chest. "I'm too tired. You pick. Something mindless. Not too much noise."

She's already half dozing and he kisses her temple, takes the laptop back. Hopefully, if he chooses just right, she'll fall asleep here with him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

"I forgot how _sad_ this movie is." Kate sniffles a little and draws her knees up. Castle is laughing at her, these breathy chuckles coming in little puffs against the crown of her head, and she squeezes his knee in retaliation until he yelps.

"It's not even the sad part yet," he teases, but both of his arms are tight around her to keep her in his lap. The wall of his chest is firm and cozy behind her and Kate shifts her legs beneath the blankets, curling up smaller. "They're on their way to a party."

One hand pressed to her chest, Kate works absentminded fingers against her scar and turns over her shoulder to see Castle. "I know. It's the song, though. It's so melancholy. It's always made me sad."

He kisses her then, a hand coming up to cradle the back of her head. The touch of his lips to hers is soft, not seeking, and she nudges her nose against his cheek when they break apart. For a moment they stay like that, foreheads pressed together, and then Kate twists back to look at the laptop screen.

"Don't be sad," Castle murmurs. His lips land at her temple, and he tucks the blanket in tighter around her waist, one huge palm splayed at her stomach as if she's even considering moving away from him. His hand is underneath the sweater she pilfered from him but still over her pajama shirt, sandwiched between the two fabrics. "This is a happy movie, Kate. He gets to have a night of magic. He meets Santa."

"And then his new friend dies," Kate says, really trying not to wail. She feels a little bit pitiful, post-festivity glumness and the general grief that the season brings her suddenly roaring up into a great tide, and she shifts her body down the couch until her head is pillowed against the bottom of his stomach.

He draws the blanket up to her chin, stroking the baby hairs back out of her face. With her ear pressed to his belly like this she can hear his stomach gurgling away as it digests the stew from dinner and she wrinkles her nose, turns her head.

"Do you want me to turn it off?" he murmurs. His fingers are petting at her hair where it spills across her shoulder. The length of her body is nestled between his legs, his knees rising on either side of her and Kate hooks an arm around his thigh. She kisses him through the material of his pajama pants, giggles when the muscle of his quad jumps and quivers.

"No. Sometimes the sadness is almost nice, you know? To just let yourself feel it."

Castle's not wearing any socks and he draws his legs up a little more until his cold soles cover her own, more slender feet. Toes wiggling, he rests a heavy palm against the crown of her head. "I know. You want to wallow for a little bit."

"Yeah."

"We can do that," he says, and Kate shifts back up the couch until she's got her cheek mashed against his chest again. He traces the curve of her ear with his index finger, dusts a kiss to her forehead, and on screen the last bars of the song play out and James and the snowman land in the North Pole.

They watch the rest of the movie in easy silence, Castle's fingers stroking up and down the length of her arm as the boy on the screen dances with the gaggle of snowmen. When he wakes to find the snowman built melted in a sunken heap Castle covers Kate's eyes with a palm. She laughs, knocks her head into his hand.

"You okay sweetheart?" he whispers as the credits roll and Kate snorts.

Shifting around on the couch, she slings a knee over Castle's thighs and sinks down, facing him. Carefully away from his hips, because she's not looking to start something right now. His hands come to her waist, thumbs digging into her skin and she laughs. "You don't have to baby me. It's just a sad movie. The song's in the minor key. It makes me feel mournful."

"Maybe we should go back outside and stargaze some more," Castle says wryly, already ducking out of the way as she reaches for his ear. He catches her fingers, his own wrapped tight around them to squeeze the tips of hers together. For a moment she thinks he might feed the birds, but instead he pretends to nibble at her and she squeaks, squirming in his grip.

"I'm fine." She slumps against his chest. Her forehead meets his clavicle and a hand comes to the back of her skull to keep her there. It's a little awkward like this, her body hunched over his, and she wriggles until she can curl up properly with him. "It's just this time of year, you know? Miss my mom a lot."

His arms come tighter around her and he tucks the high collar of the sweater she stole out of the way of her face. Castle shifts to put her between himself and the back of the couch, easing them down until they're resting against the pillows he piled up earlier.

The blanket has gotten bunched up at the other end of the couch and Castle hooks his toes in it, careful to drag it slowly so he doesn't tip his laptop onto the floor. He folds the computer closed and moves it to the coffee table, tucking the blanket around Kate's shoulders.

"Is it weird if I say that I miss her too? I know I never met her, but the way that you talk about her I know that I would have loved her. And your dad says that you're so like her, so I feel like I do know her a little bit and I-"

"Rick," she cuts him off, a hand sneaking up from underneath the throw to cover his mouth. He smacks his lips beneath her palm and she laughs, darts her tongue out to flick against his throat. "You're rambling."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I understand what you mean. And I'm glad her memory can live on like that."

They're quiet for a while, Castle's lips forming little kisses along the top of her head like footprints until he makes his way down to her mouth. He's soft with her, sweet man, but Kate opens to the sweep of his tongue and arches her back, crushes her chest against him.

"Kate." He soothes her, breaking away from her mouth and drawing her in close. "That movie was less than a half hour long. Can we watch another, and then go to bed?"

"Sure," she laughs. Castle is on his back, has her mostly squished between his body and the couch, but she kind of likes the press of his elbow into her stomach and the warmth that rolls off him. Chin propped on his shoulder, she watches as he scrolls through his laptop and selects a movie.

She feels good, even with missing her mom. Stretching the length of her body out along the couch, Kate reaches for her husband's arm and tucks it around her shoulders. Her face is mashed against his ribs like this, and she can't really see the screen, but she doesn't mind.

Cracking open on a yawn, Kate tucks her toes underneath one of Castle's feet and nudges for him to start the movie. She lifts up on one elbow to peek over the rise of his chest and see the screen. It takes her less than ten seconds to figure out what they're watching and she grins, settles back against the couch cushions.

Castle mumbles along with the dialogue, as on screen Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds try to deny the blossoming feelings between them. She laughs, even not being able to see. Even with one foot in dreaming, and she keeps getting tugged back out to watch the story unfold.

"Hey," he says about halfway in, and Kate presses her nose against him in answer. "In the first couple of years that we worked together, would you have married me?"

She snorts at that, struggling underneath the felled limb of his arm. Working out from beneath it, she wriggles her way up the couch until she's nose to nose with him, sharing a pillow, and his fingers drum against her thigh. "Would I have married you?"

"I know neither of us would need a green card or anything, but pretend for a minute that you're Canadian and you needed to marry me so you wouldn't get deported. Would you have done it?"

"Probably not," she starts. Real hurt washes over his face. A hand sneaking out from underneath the blanket, Kate dusts her thumb over his pouty mouth and comes in closer, their foreheads meeting. "Well. Maybe."

His arm eases around her again, tucked underneath her own and his palm splayed at her stomach. "Maybe. Well thanks. I'd have done it in a heartbeat."

"This is hypothetical," she laughs, darting in to steal a kiss from him. He's grumbling and grouchy, and from the set of his brows and the stroppy little huff of his breath, she knows it isn't entirely for show. "Castle. Come on. I married you for real, didn't I?"

"Yeah."

"And anyway," she ploughs on, getting a little irate now. "That's a lie. You wouldn't have married me then. In fact, you were very specific about telling me how much you never wanted to get married again."

He makes a little noise and struggles upright to see her, his body looming over hers. "Kate. I love being married to you."

Reaching up between them, Kate hooks her fingers around his ear and tugs him back down to her. Both arms wind around his neck and she kisses him, her mouth smudging clumsily against his. Castle rolls them until she's on her back and his body is nestled between her legs, his weight on one elbow next to her head.

His kiss grows deeper, his tongue slick through her mouth. When his teeth graze against the column of her neck she gasps, arching, and his whole body contracts to rock down hard into hers.

The laptop is next to his calves, the movie still playing, and Kate pushes on his chest to get him to break apart from her. Unhooking a foot from the blanket, Kate pushes on the computer to close it. The movie cuts off mid sentence and Castle grunts, but she's already kissing him again.

"We've seen it enough times," she laughs, breaking away from his mouth and working her thumb into the parallel lines between his brows, smoothing out the creases. "And I want you."

"Twice already today," he leers, the entire left side of his face tugging up in unfettered yearning.

She's blushing, the stain of lust creeping slowly up the length of her neck, but pink never quite blooms in her cheeks. Instead she seeks his mouth again, one hand working into his hair and sifting through the soft strands. "Ready to go for three?"

"Oh yeah."

* * *

"I want hot chocolate," she says, has to draw in a breath to quash the petulance that rises in her. They never quite made it off the couch, or out of their clothes, and she feels kind of gross with it. "And a shower."

"Go get one," Castle laughs, sprawled on his back with his pants all twisted around his waist. She's on top of him, her ear over his heart to listen to it thud slowly back into its normal rhythm.

It's comfortable like this, and she is entirely loath to move, but her pajama shirt is clinging to her skin as the sweat dries in a patina across her back. "Help me get up."

He pushes on her and she rolls, gets a foot onto the floor. The hardwood is freezing and she curls her toes, her other knee propped against the couch cushion as she hauls herself upright. Stretching her arms up over her head, Kate lets her back arch and has to laugh when Castle fumbles his way into sitting on the couch.

"I'll make hot cocoa while you shower?" he offers, reaching out for her. His hands fist in the material at either side of her hips and he reels her in, brings her to stand between his legs.

Chin propped against her stomach, he looks up at her and she laughs, sifting her fingers through the flop of his hair to push it back from his forehead. "Sounds good. Unless you want to shower too?"

"I'll go after you," he says. He rucks her shirt up to dust his lips just to the left of her belly button. The kiss makes her think of murmured words, of her stomach rounding with life, and she clutches a fistful of his hair and yanks him away.

They've talked, some. No solid plans yet, and not even two months into their marriage she's nowhere close to ready. She wants it, of course, but she wants to enjoy him first.

"I'll save you some hot water then," she says, breaking out of the clutch of his hands and rounding the couch, heading towards their bedroom.

The sheets are rumpled from earlier today and Kate straightens them out, tucking down the corners and plumping the pillows. Castle hates getting into an unmade bed, always whines that he can't make himself a proper nest, and Kate's chest bubbles with satisfaction as she smoothes a hand over the sheets.

In the bathroom, she strips out of her pajamas and tosses them back through the open door into their bedroom. She brought a few pairs, and there's a washer dryer here if she does run out. Only four nights, but she knows her husband.

Knows herself.

Tying her hair in a knot at the top of her head, Kate flicks on the spray and steps inside the shower stall, tugging the glass door closed behind herself. She's careful to keep her hair out of the water, can't bear the thought of it hanging wet and limp around her cheeks, clinging to her neck.

Castle got her a new shower gel in her stocking and it's bright pink with tiny grains of luminescence all through it. The lather makes her skin sparkle and the candy floss scent has her humming. She closes her eyes as she works the soap over the planes of her body.

She rinses off, doesn't bother to linger beneath the lovely, warm rain of the shower head. Castle's waiting, and she did promise not to drain the entire tank. Shutting off the water, Kate steps out and collects a towel from the rail, wrapping it underneath her arms and tucking in the ends.

Her husband is in the kitchen, singing to himself as he whips them up their hot chocolate, and she slides damp arms around his waist. "Want me to take over while you shower?"

"You're not dressed," he laughs, tracing the edge of her collarbone with a fingertip. He dips into the hollow of her clavicle and comes back to rest at the base of her throat, the tip of his index in that pool of shadow and the heel of his palm against her bullet scar.

"Oh," she laughs, glances down at her own bare legs. "Right. Um. I'll get dressed and then take over? Give me thirty seconds."

She steps back from him, already heading for the bedroom, and he calls out for her to take her time. Kate closes the drapes, even though there's nobody out there who could peek in. Drying off her shoulders and arms, she ducks into the bathroom to hang her towel up so it can dry, comes back to rummage through her drawer in the dresser for a fresh pair of pajamas.

The first ones she comes across are the ones he got for her to open on Christmas Eve and sleep in that night. The shirt is red with a little cartoon Christmas tree on the front, the pants striped in red and white and green, and Alexis has a matching pair.

New pajamas are a tradition. She learned the first year when she watched Alexis open hers, watched Castle brimming over with delight as he opened the ones his daughter had gotten him. That first time, Kate had managed to escape, but the year after that they were engaged and this year they were married and now she has two pairs of slightly goofy, insanely soft festive PJs.

Kate pads back out to the kitchen to find him again and eases her way in between him and the stove, taking over control of the pot. It was Alexis who taught her the family secret hot chocolate recipe, this time last year. Alexis who stood over her and made sure she was stirring at just the right speed.

"Fire's down to embers," Castle says as he steps back and relinquishes his spoon. "Do we just leave it to die at night?"

"Yeah. Not safe to have it burning while we're asleep, and we'll be warm with the heater."

In the window over the sink she watches his reflection nod, watches as he turns slowly. His pajamas are in a worse state than the ones she just shed, creases all across the back of the shirt, and Kate turns the other way to see him properly.

"Castle," she calls softly. He twists to face her, eyes still on the fireplace. When he finally lifts his gaze to hers she smiles and tilts her head towards their bedroom. "You were showering."

He nods and scampers away towards their bathroom, and Kate turns back to the stove and lets her smile bloom wide. Removing the pot from the burner, she adds half a bar of milk chocolate to the mixture. As she stirs, she listens to the thunder of water against the floor of the shower and the low rumble of her husband's singing.

Once the chocolate has melted through she adds a splash of vanilla extract, lifting the little bottle to her nose and inhaling deeply. When she was younger, maybe ten or eleven, Kate loved the smell of vanilla so much that she pilfered a bottle of the extract from a kitchen cabinet and tried to wear it like perfume. She had dabbed it against her wrists and the sides of her throat, and all day she had been sticky and irritable.

Kate fetches two big mugs and divides the hot chocolate mixture between them, adding a handful of mini marshmallows to each cup. A mug in each hand, she heads for their bedroom and sets them both down on Castle's nightstand.

She moves for the living room and straightens the pillows on the couch, makes sure the fire isn't going to ignite itself while they sleep. Kate checks that the back door is locked and flicks off all of the lights on her way to the front of the house, locks that door as well.

The cabin in darkness, she heads back to their bedroom just in time to catch Castle emerging from the bathroom, towel slung around his waist and his hair dripping into his eyes. He grins when he sees her, snags her wrist as she moves past him to the bed.

Reeling her in, he leaves a slither of space between their bodies so that he doesn't get her fresh pajamas damp and he kisses her, one hand securing his towel so that his knuckles just barely graze her stomach.

Kate breaks away from their kiss and climbs into bed, leaning across to snag a mug from the nightstand on the other side. She sips at her hot chocolate as she watches Castle get dressed, smirking at him from over the top of the rim as he turns around, gives her a show.

"Wanna put the heater on?"

"Why don't we try without, tonight?" she suggests. Her father was the one who bought the heaters, but she doesn't want to rack up a huge electricity bill for him. "You sleep like a furnace anyway, but if one of us does get cold we can just get up and turn it on."

He climbs into bed beside her and tucks the covers around his waist, collects his mug from the nightstand. Their shoulders brush as they drink their hot chocolate in comfortable silence, and once Kate is done she sets her empty cup down and lays her head against Castle's shoulder.

"I'm so glad we're here," she murmurs, drawing her legs up. It tents the sheets and he lays a hand over one of her knees.

Castle drains the last dregs of his hot chocolate and puts his mug aside. It frees him up to wind an arm around her and he tucks her in close against his chest, his lips at the crown of her head and his breath rustling her hair.

"I'm glad we are too. So many good memories."

"I need this," she admits, reaching for his free hand and tangling their fingers together. His thumb strokes back and forth at the underside of her wrist and he wriggles his way down the headboard, bringing her with him so that they're half reclining. "I can't imagine sitting at my desk and glancing over and you not being there."

Saying it out loud makes it true and she has to hide her face against his pajama shirt, her breath coming in these tight little gasps so that she doesn't cry. Castle has been her partner for almost six years, and it's so unfair of the universe to wrench him away right when their personal relationship is finally perfect.

"It's gonna be okay," he says, soothing her with the flirtation of his fingertips at her jawline, the column of her neck. "Kate, honey, come on. Don't be upset."

"Aren't you?" she cries out, lifting her head to see him. He looks horrified and he swipes at her cheeks, his fingers coming away dry.

She's okay, not crying.

He tugs her back down to snuggling, arm tight around her shoulders. For a moment he's still, and then he seems to think better of it and guides them both down flat to the mattress. Her head is on his pillow and Kate stretches her legs out, her feet almost touching his.

"I'm gonna miss you every moment I'm not at the precinct," he says quietly, arranging them both until she's smushed up against the side of his body, half on his chest really.

"Turn the light off?" she asks.

He reaches behind himself to flip the switch on the lamp and plunge the room into darkness. Night rushes in as an immediate force, and Castle is a patch of more textured shadow just in front of her face.

"I'm trying not to be sad. It's not like I'm never gonna see you again."

It's easier like this, and she doesn't have to watch the horror take hold of Castle and twist his face. He shifts, making himself comfortable and tugging on the comforter to tuck it tighter around them both, and his bicep jumps beneath her head.

"I promise, Kate, it's gonna be alright. You'll see me every morning and every evening, and you know I'm only a phone call away if you need one of my brilliant theories."

"I know," she says, manages something close to laughter. It bursts like a wet bubble in her mouth and she tucks herself in closer, hides her face. She never manages to fall asleep like this, usually has to roll away and put her back to him, but tonight feels cataclysmic. "I just feel like this is our last time together before everything ends."

He makes a noise of alarm and his fingers come in a fist at her pajama shirt, pressing hard into her stomach. "Nothing's ending. You're still gonna have days off, Beckett. And you can meet me for lunch sometimes. And sleep beside me every night."

Lifting her head, Kate dusts a kiss to wherever of him she can reach. His chin, she thinks, a sharp jut against her lips and the prickle of regrowth, and she lingers for a moment before she settles again.

"It's just not fair. I want my partner."

"We're gonna work it out," he promises her.

It feels empty right now, and Kate rolls over with a little huff and puts her back to him. There are too many pillows in this bed and she tugs one out from beneath her head, wraps both her arms around it instead. Castle looms over her, a shapeless form in the darkness, and he brushes her hair back.

"Are you. . .is this a tantrum?"

"No," she grumps, drawing her knees up. Tucking her body away from him, and it's unfair of her to place the blame on her husband for this, but she's wounded. "Just tired. It's been a long day."

"Sweet dreams," he murmurs, and the mattress bounces as he shifts back over to his own side.

* * *

 **A/N:** The movie they're watching at the start of this chapter is called _The Snowman_. I believe it's mostly known in the UK. However, it's very short, and very beautiful, so I recommend you all go and watch if you have the opportunity.


	6. Chapter 6

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

When Kate wakes up the room is thick with a darkness that's shallower, more artificial than the middle of the night. For a moment she flounders outside of time. There's no alarm clock in the bedroom, and when she plucks her phone from the nightstand and presses the home button it refuses to wake.

Setting it down again, Kate rolls onto her back and snakes an arm out from underneath the covers, folds it beneath her head. She feels good, rested, and sleep doesn't clamour at her and threaten to drag her back down. After a few minutes Kate slips out from between the sheets, careful to tuck them in again around the hulking mass of Castle's body. It's early still, and she would hate for a chill to creep in and wake him.

At the dresser, she eases her drawer open as silently as she can manage to and she fishes around inside for the thick, cable knit pair of slipper socks that Martha got for her stocking this year. They're grey with a little bow at the top, a bobble hanging from each of the tail ends of the knot, and Kate tucks her pajama pants into the top of the socks.

The cabin is freezing and Kate slides her husband's drawer open next, steals a sweater from inside to shrug on over her head. This one is navy rib knit, cashmere blend, and she feels immediately warmer. Kate turns in the mirror to inspect the grey cashmere elbow patches, has to huff a breath of laughter at the way they hang down past where they're supposed to sit. Hunkering into the collar, she lets her ears get warm and she slips out of their bedroom, closes the door behind herself.

Out here the wan, milky light of pre-dawn creeps in through the bare French doors. Kate heads for the kitchen to start the coffee machine, the routine of measuring out grounds and water helping her to come awake a little bit more.

Another shiver rattles through her and Kate starts for the fireplace, pausing halfway there and wringing her hands uselessly. She told Castle she would teach him, would show him from scratch how to build the fire, so as cold as she is she's going to have to wait for him to wake up.

Instead, she snags the blanket from the back of the couch and wraps it around her shoulders, heads back to the kitchen to stand in front of the coffee maker and wait for it to get done. The rich, dark nectar starts to drip into the pot and Kate sighs, bowing over the counter to breathe it in.

She collects creamer and the vanilla syrup, adds both to her mug after she's poured herself some of the coffee. Satisfied, she wraps one hand around her cup, the other clutched in the two ends of the blanket and pressed against her chest to hold it around her shoulders like a cape.

Kate curls up in one of the armchairs, wishing it weren't freezing cold so that she could sit out on the porch instead. She loves winter mornings, loves to watch the whole world shrug its urgent way out of the shell of frost and forge ahead.

Outside, a robin picks at the sparse ground, comes away with a worm twisting and squirming in his beak. She watches as the little bird swallows down his breakfast, hopping through the whitewashed grass in search of more to eat.

Her head against the back of the couch, Kate sips at her coffee and watches until the robin flies away, his tiny body a blur of vivid colour against the mossy green and brown of the forest. A clock hangs on the wall above the bookshelves and Kate twists over the back of the couch to see it, huffs a breath. Seven thirty, so she at least managed to sleep in a little bit.

Once she drains her mug of its coffee she sets it down on the end table, has to hunt underneath for the ornate box of coasters so that she doesn't leave a ring mark on the wood. She doses a little in her chair, blanket tucked up around her waist and the world outside barely shifting.

Kate lifts her head at the click of their bedroom door and smiles at Castle, stays right where she is. He comes to join her, propping himself on the arm of her chair and stooping to kiss the top of her head. "Good morning. When'd you get up?"

"Hm, seven? Maybe a little after."

"Pretty good for you," he says. A little rumble of almost laughter moves through his chest. Castle slides his body down into the seat, crushing her against the arm of the chair until he manages to scoop her up and arrange her in his lap instead.

They're sharing the blanket now, his body still clinging to its sleep-sweat and so warm, and Kate turns sideways and tucks her toes down between the couch cushion and the arm of the chair. "Coffee in the pot."

"I'll get it in a minute," he says, his grin cheeky, and he dusts a trio of tiny kisses across her face and towards her ear. "You feeling any less grumpy today?"

"About that," she starts. She's got an arm around his waist and her face is mostly hidden against the fabric of his shirt. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pitch a fit. I'm just sad."

Two fingers come to her chin and he tilts her head up, presses his lips to hers. Closed mouth, because it's morning and he hasn't even had his coffee yet, and his free hand pets clumsily at the ball of her shoulder.

"I'm sad too. But I think, if you want to, we should try to forget about it while we're here. Just for a few days, and when we get back to the city we can both mope."

"Okay." Her forehead fits neatly in the curve between his neck and his shoulder and she lets herself rest, the bones of her butt grating against his thigh every time she moves. "I'm not sad. You're here, we're married; how can I be?"

She lets him keep her close, easy silence creeping in from the world outside the cabin. It's eventually broken by the grumpy roar of his stomach and Kate laughs, her mouth open in a sloppy kiss against the side of his neck.

"You hungry too?"

"I could eat." She swings her legs off of him and down onto the floor. Kate climbs out of the chair and waits for him to stand up too, heading for the kitchen. "You want eggs?"

Castle tugs the fridge open and disappears half-inside. Leaning over like this, his pajama shirt rides up a little and exposes a sliver of skin at his back. She's hungry, she is, but Kate can't help herself. Stepping in close, she feathers her fingers across that lovely bare skin and down, gooses him.

It makes him jerk hard and he smacks his head against one of the refrigerator shelves, stumbles back away from it with a hand flying up to press against his crown. "Ouch. Meanie."

"I'm sorry." She has to press her lips together to stop the smile from tumbling right out. The corners of her mouth ache with it and she grins, reaching for him as she does. Kate gets her hands at his cheeks and guides him to bend down a little, let her inspect the top of his head. "You're fine."

She comes in close and dusts a kiss to his crown, lingering a moment to breathe in the fruity scent of his shower gel. Kate picked it out for his stocking and when he had pulled it free his whole face had come alive with joy, his grin so wide.

It's called a shower jelly, according to the overeager girl in the store. It's made of something black and jello-like, in the shape of a bat, and she'd joined Castle in the shower on Christmas morning to show him exactly how to use it.

"Smell good," she murmurs, letting go when he tugs against her grip. He straightens, drawing her in with a palm at the back of her skull so that he can kiss her forehead. His lips smack, his shoulders wiggling, and she has to laugh when she breaks away. "I'm gonna make scrambled eggs. Want some?"

"Sure," he says. Castle reaches back into the refrigerator, keeps one eye on her this time as he hands her the carton of eggs and then the butter and a bag of grated cheese. "I'm gonna toast bagels too."

They work comfortably together, Castle cutting open the top of the bag of cheese for her as he keeps watch over the toaster. He plucks one of the bagels out immediately after it pops and spreads butter across the surface to let it melt. For her, and he lets his own bagel cool down before he butters it so that he can spread a thicker layer.

Kate cooks the eggs, adds a little sprinkle of cheese as well as salt and pepper. She dishes them up and nods her head towards the island, a plate in each hand. Setting them down, she moves to pour herself a glass of fresh cranberry juice and then heads back to the island, waits for Castle to come sit with their bagels and his mug of coffee.

"Any plans for today?" he asks after a few mouthfuls, his coffee left to cool down a little before he drinks it.

Tracing her fingertip around the rim of her glass, Kate brings one foot up to prop against the seat of her barstool, her chin resting on her knee. "I was hoping to skate. I think it's supposed to snow soon, and it's not really safe to skate on the lake if it's got snow covering it."

"Sounds good."

Kate has finished her breakfast now, her body heavy with satisfaction, and she watches as Castle eats the last of his eggs, gives her these little smiles around his fork. Once he's done she dumps their dishes in the sink to deal with later and comes back around, nudges her way in between his legs at the barstool.

Arms around his neck, Kate draws him down and kisses him, sifting her fingers through those so-soft hairs at his nape. His skin is so warm somehow, and she steps in closer until her chest meets his. "Are you gonna be okay? There are no railings to cling to out on the lake."

"Excuse me," he says, straightening in his chair so that his body suddenly looms over hers. Kate rests her hands in their sweater paws against his chest and cocks her head, waits on him. "I'll have you know that I'm an excellent skater. Of the two of us, it wasn't me who clung tight to your hand all the way around the rink now was it?"

"No," she mutters, hanging her head, but it's only to hide her grin from him.

They went to Rockefeller last year, even with the crowds, because they were engaged and a bit snow-blind. Kate's not as terrible as she made out when he saw those photographs her mother took, but she had stumbled her way around the rink with Castle's hand clutched in hers and his round, laughing face turning back to see her.

"Let's get dressed," he says and slides down from his chair, crowds her against the island. His mouth opens against the side of her throat, nudging the collar of her stolen sweater out of the way with his chin. Kate traces her fingers over his ear, fascinated by the downy lobe, the shell pink as new skin.

He seeks her mouth eventually, his tongue a little heavy this morning as he kisses her, but Kate opens up to him and lets him nudge his thigh between hers. His hands are hot and everywhere, rucking up the layers of her sweater and pajama shirt in search of bare skin.

When she breaks away from his mouth, Kate has to rest her forehead against the edge of his jaw and measure her breaths. "Thought you wanted to get dressed."

"I do," he says. He plucks one of her hands from where she has her palms resting against his chest. Castle wraps his fingers around hers, their palms pressed close together, and he walks her back towards the bedroom with him.

He gets in her way a couple times as they get dressed, comes in to pee while she's trying to wash her face. Kate finishes up and pats her skin dry, inspecting herself in the mirror from over Castle's shoulder as he washes his hands in the sink.

Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are already a little pink, the cold even inside the cabin making her eyes bright and her skin pull taut, and she decides not to bother with makeup today. Only Castle to see her, and he has never seemed to mind.

"Good to go?" he asks. Thick fingers come to the backs of her thighs to reel her in close. Through her yoga pants it's like he's touching bare skin and her legs erupt in gooseflesh, her hips rocking shallowly. "Are you gonna be warm like that?"

"I'll be fine once we get skating. Exertion will warm me up."

"Right," he nods, dropping a kiss to the tip of her nose. He misses, ends up smearing his mouth half against her cheek, and she laughs and ducks out from under his touch to get at her toothbrush.

He brushes as well, the two of them side by side and shoulders bumping, and she grins at him in the mirror around the bristles and the foam, has to lean over and spit into the sink so that toothpaste doesn't go sliding down her chin.

Kate steps neatly to the side to let Castle spit as well, dabbing her lips dry with the face cloth. She passes it over to him on her way out of the bathroom and sinks to sit on the end of the bed. She tugs on socks, tucking her leggings down inside, and then she straightens up again and collects a sweater from the closet.

She gathers her hair into a messy knot at the nape of her neck so that it won't get in her face, tugs her hat on over the top. For just a moment, she misses the spill of curls down to the middle of her back, wishes she could wind her hair into a braid.

Well, it'll grow, and she likes how much easier it is when it's only just past her shoulders.

Her skates are in their box in the closet and she scoops it up, both arms around it to hold it against her chest as she moves for the entryway to find her rubber boots. There's no snow yet, but the ground is hard with frost and they're the easiest thing to slip on and off down by the lake.

The little catchall shelf by the door has both of their gloves on it and Kate snags hers and pulls them on, brings Castle's with her when she goes to find him in the bedroom.

"Babe," she says, a little sharp, and his head whips up to see her. "Come on. What's keeping you?"

"Sorry." He finishes with the lace of his sneaker and stands up from the end of the bed.

He's wearing cargo pants for ease of movement and Kate tilts her head on a smirk, her hip propped against the doorframe. "Got enough pockets?"

"Hush," he grumbles, ducking into the closet for a moment to grab his own skates. His are unboxed and he carries them in one hand, pinched together. His blade guard is electric blue and she grins, tucks his gloves down into one of the skates for him.

Outside, they make their way down to the lake and Castle starts to head for the dock, hesitating when Kate bumps her shoulder into his. "We've got to measure the thickness of the ice. It's clear so that's good, means it's stronger. But to be safe."

Kate sets her skates down on the dock and jogs back up to the cabin and through the living room, ducking into the garage to find her father's ice auger. It's electric, which makes everything easier, and she hauls it back down to the lake with her.

The ice looks solid enough, but she's heard stories from her father's friends. Gruff, bearded men who used to fill up the cabin when she was a little girl, all gathering around the fire and flirting with Kate's mother, never seeming to shrug all the way out of their many layers of warm clothing.

She's tentative as she steps out in her rubber boots, but there's not a shift beneath her feet and she strides out away from the shoreline. Kate's operated the auger a bunch of times before, but she's still surprised by the way it rattles her bones as it drills down through the ice, her skull vibrating beneath her skin.

Going slowly to her knees, Kate measures the depth of the ice and calls out to Castle where he's still on the shoreline. "Seven inches. We should be good. Let me check a few more spots."

Kate makes her careful way around the ice, drilling in a few more spots to make sure the thickness is consistent in the area they're going to be skating. Satisfied, she comes back to the shore and her eager, boyish husband.

He's bouncing on the balls of his feet now, and Kate lays a gloved palm flat against his chest and ducks to catch his eyes. "Castle, listen. This is really important. If you notice any patches that are a different colour, any cracks, and especially any slush, you tell me right away and you get the hell off the ice. Understood?"

"Kate," he laughs, darting close as if he's going to kiss her, and she jerks her head back. Takes an entire step away, hands planted on her hips.

"I mean it. My dad has had friends go under the ice and never make it back up. And I'm not losing you like that, you hear me?"

"I hear you," he says, voice pitched soft as if to soothe, and he comes towards her. He wraps his arms tight around her waist and when he squeezes she comes off the ground, her body pitching into his. When he sets her down again he keeps a secure hold on her and his lips brush her cheek. "Nobody's gonna fall through, Beckett. And if you're gonna spend the whole time terrified, I'd rather not skate at all. No fun then."

She breaks out of his embrace then, straightening her hat where he's knocked it askew, but she does at least manage a smile. "I'm not terrified. I just want us both to be safe. A couple more things, okay."

He starts to groan, twisting half away like a moody teenager who just wants to get going already, and she holds her index finger up to him. "If you fall through, you need to try and swim your way out onto the surface rather than leaning on the edge of the hole. It's all about distribution of weight. And once you're out, roll or crawl towards the shore."

"What if you fall through?" he says as if it's just now dawning on him that it could happen, and the grin slides down his face like tar. "How do I- Kate, I can't watch you drown."

"I won't drown," she says firmly. "See that rope tied to the dock? You would untie it and toss it to me so you could help me pull myself out. But if I do go under, you need to lay down where you are and spread your weight, move slowly towards the dock. Whatever you do, don't run."

He gulps, scraping a hand over his face. "I'm not so sure I want to do this anymore."

"I've skated on this lake hundreds of times, and I've never fallen. Because I'm safe, because I take precautions and I have a plan for if something goes wrong. It's gonna be just fine."

"Okay," he nods, steeling himself, and he draws her in to kiss her. She smiles against his mouth, so grateful for the way he puts aside his goofy nature when she needs him to. Their kiss disintegrates around the arc of her grin and she steps away, tangles her fingers in his to bring him down to the dock with her.

They sit at the end, as if to dangle their feet into the water, and they pull on their skates. She has to tug hard on the laces to make sure that her foot isn't going to wriggle around inside the boot, but eventually she's satisfied and she tests her weight, standing up slowly and holding tight to one of the pillars at the end of the little pier.

It's only a few more seconds and then Castle finishes too and gets to his feet, doing an experimental little slide with one foot to test the quality of the ice. Satisfied, he glides away from her and her heart leaps into her throat, her pulse an off-tempo thump in her ears that throws her balance.

"Castle!" she cries out and he stops skating, does a neat little spin around to face her. One hand pressed over her heart to keep the messy spill of muscle safe inside, Kate makes her unsteady way towards him. He holds out a hand and she takes it, lets him reel her in. "Don't go in the middle. It's weaker there. Just skate around the edges."

"I love you too, Kate," he grins and then he's off again. The slipstream of his glide makes her wobble and she has to fix her eyes on the cabin and allow her body to find its centre of gravity again. He's graceful out here, his body a neat and somehow slender line, and for a minute she just stands where she is and watches him show off.

When Alexis was tiny she wanted to be a professional skater, took classes three times a week, and Castle went with his baby girl and received his own private coaching so that he'd be able to keep up with her. Kate didn't know until after the first time they skated together, had been astonished when he zipped off around the rink and did a little jump.

He skates loops around her now as Kate does her best to stay on her feet, but eventually he comes to take hold of both her hands and skates backwards ahead of her, helping her find her ice-legs. It takes her a while, but she works her way into the rhythm of the glide eventually and she's brave enough to let go of him.

Castle continues backwards, his eyes on her, but he puts a little more distance between them now and increases his speed. Showing off, yes, but he's a dork and she loves him for it.

"Don't fall," she calls out, arms held away from her sides like a baby bird figuring out flight. "Your knee, babe. Can't spend another four weeks in a cast."

"I won't fall," he grins, that cocky tug to one corner of his mouth that makes her want to punch him and kiss him in equal measure. "I'm a better skater than skier. And I don't have to show off in front of you anymore. Married me, didn't you."

Kate rolls her eyes at that, lets out a snort when Castle does a spin as if to prove his point. She's so busy watching him that she forgets to pay attention to her own self, and then one foot flies out from beneath her and she falls heavily on her ass.

Her bones connect hard with the ice and the shock reverberates all the way up her spine and into her jaw. For a moment all she can do is sit there, sprawled like a newborn fawn, and blink hard. Her hands have balled into fists automatically so that her fingers don't get sliced off by another pair of skates, and she pushes up onto all fours.

Sliding one skate between her palms where they're braced flat against the ice, she pushes on that leg and rises until she can get the other foot underneath her too. When she straightens Castle is right there, palms out to catch her, and one hand comes to cup her elbow.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Think so."

"Bruise your butt?" he smirks, twisting around to peer at the back of her as if he could possibly tell like this.

It makes her blush and she swats at him, which only sets her off-balance again, and before she can even grab for her husband she's once more on the ground at his feet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

"I think we should take a bath," Castle says, already herding his wife towards the bathroom with the insistent press of his body. Their skates are dumped just inside the French doors, his sneakers and her rubber boots added to the pile as well, and Kate hobbles stiffly down the hallway.

She fell. More than once. Again and again, in fact, he had to glide back over to her and pick her up off the ground. It was cute, the sprawl of her limbs and the inelegant huff of her entire body as she tried to keep her balance. It made his heart soft for her and he tries to quiet the silly old thing as he guides her towards the bathroom.

Inside, he leans over to turn on the faucet and put the plug into the drain, start the tub filling. When Castle turns back Kate is just standing there, gazing out of the window with the fingers of one hand working against her lower back, and he steps in close.

"Hey." He brushes the backs of his fingers over her cheek. "You with me?"

"Hmm," she says, head turning into his touch even as her eyes stare right past him. He gives her a moment, and eventually Kate lifts her gaze to his and she smiles, nods. "Yeah. With you. Still jealous."

He laughs at that and fists both hands in the bottom of her sweater, easing it up. She cooperates quietly, lifting her arms when he asks her to, and when her head pops out from the bottom of the jumper her hair is in disarray, static making it frizz into a halo.

Castle leaves her to undress herself then, focusing instead on stripping out of his own clothes, and by the time he makes it down to just his boxer shorts Kate is totally naked. Arms crossed over her chest, she shifts her weight from foot to foot and shivers.

He brought them inside, because it was taking her longer and longer to find the energy to get up from the ice each time. Because she was shivering violently, her clothes soaked through, and she couldn't stop her teeth chattering long enough to speak to him.

It sucked all of the fun right out of it, and he had laced their gloved hands together and skated with her all the way back to the dock to sit and put their shoes back on, head back to the house.

There's a bottle of lotion on the side of the tub and he uncaps it, pours a healthy stream of it into the flow of water from the faucet. The lilac soap foams into bubbles when it hits the ceramic bottom of the bathtub and he swirls a hand through the water to agitate it.

"Let's just get in," he says, pushing his boxers down his hips and stepping out of them. Their clothes need to go into the washer really, or a hamper at the very least, but he leaves their wet things dumped on the tile and he climbs into the tub, holds out a hand for Kate.

His toes are so cold that the bathwater feels scalding and he yelps, has to force himself not to hop from foot to foot. Instead he curls them and breathes raggedly through his nose, waiting for Kate to just get in the damn tub so he can move.

She takes his hand, one wobbly leg coming up to step over the edge of the bath, and he gets both hands at her hips to steady her as she brings her other foot into the water as well. Satisfied that she's not about to topple, Castle sinks slowly down to sit and opens his arms to her.

The bathtub is deep, takes forever to fill, and the water only just laps at the tops of his thighs when he sits down. He's a sturdy guy, broad, and he takes up the entire end of the tup. It means he can sit without slipping down into the water though, and with both arms around Kate's waist and her head in the crook of his neck he knows it's more comfortable for them both this way.

Her legs fit neatly between his, her periwinkle toes poking out through the bubbles, and she wiggles them at him as if in greeting. Already she seems more with it and she smiles, lays a hand over his at her stomach. "Thanks for not getting annoyed with me."

"For what?" he huffs, kisses the edge of her cheekbone. Her skin is mottled and freezing, the tip of her nose wind-chapped and red and the rest of her face entirely wan. He works his lips across her cheek and down to her mouth to build up a little warmth. "Falling down?"

"Yeah. I know I was holding you back."

The room is already humid with the heat of the bathwater and it makes tiny baby hairs cling to Kate's neck, makes her whole body loose and lazy where she rests against him. Brushing those short hairs aside, he kisses the slope where her neck meets her shoulder and traces patterns against the skin of her stomach with a fingertip.

"Weren't holding me back one bit. I had so much fun."

"Me too," she hums, arching her back. Castle knuckles the spot just to the left of her spine where he knows she carries all of her stresses and she purrs, slumping back against him. "Even if I did break my butt."

He laughs at that, and Kate turns her head for a kiss. It's a little sloppy like this, the bubbles making her body slippery so that she slides out of his grip like an eel, but he manages to grip the meat of her thigh and keep her close as his tongue slicks inside her mouth.

She tastes good, adrenaline peppery on her tongue, and he breathes hard through his nose and slides a wet hand into her hair. It makes her grumble and she breaks apart from him, shifts to straddle his thighs. Too far back, entirely not where he wants her, and he makes a strangled noise and flexes his hands at her hips.

"Don't wet my hair," she says firmly, and he shows her his palms. Kate has a hair tie around her wrist and she gathers her curls into a messy knot at the top of her head. A few cute little tendrils escape to frame her face and he gets a hand at the back of her neck to draw her through the water and in close.

Their kiss is lazy, both of them too worn out from skating to really take it anywhere. Castle's mouth travels down the length of her neck and his tongue darts out at her clavicle to lap at the little droplets of water there. She moans, a hand at the back of his head, but then she grabs a fistful of his hair and tugs him away from her.

Turning around, she leans back against his chest and wiggles her toes in the water to send little ripples travelling outwards. He has both arms around her waist again, his palms splayed over the span of her ribs to feel the shift as she breathes.

After a while his fingertips start to wrinkle, the water getting tepid, and he snags her attention with the brush of his thumb against the bottom swell of her breast. "Ready to get out?"

"Yeah," she says. Kate pulls away from him and stands up in the water. "Gotta teach you how to make a fire."

He follows her out of the tub, taking the towel she hands to him with a kiss to her cheek and winding it around his waist. The towels at her family's cabin are sinfully fluffy, huge and white and warm, and Kate wraps her own around her shoulders like a little kid and comes in to lean against his chest.

Both of his arms slide around her and she rubs her nose at the side of his neck, their skins clammy and sticking together. He lets her have a minute to work through whatever this is and then he eases back from her and takes her towel, wraps it underneath her arms for her instead.

In the bedroom he busies himself at the dresser changing into his actual clothes for the day. The cargo pants are something he only really wears when jeans are going to be too restrictive and he doesn't want to wreck a pair of slacks, and he loves how Beckett teases and runs her hands over all of his pockets.

Castle tugs on dark navy jeans and a paler blue shirt, pushing the sleeves up past his elbows because he loves the way it makes Kate flirt with his biceps. He scrubs the towel through his hair just to be sure that it's dry and he tosses it through the open door of their en suite bathroom to deal with later.

When he turns back around, Kate is on her stomach on their bed. The entire, naked length of her body stretches out on top of the comforter, the towel draped over the swell of her ass to somewhat protect her modesty. Her head is turned towards him, arms folded beneath her cheek, but her eyes are closed.

They fly open when he props a knee in the mattress, her body tipping towards the weight of his leg, and he smiles at her. "Hi there. Whatcha doing?"

"My butt hurts," she grumbles, reaching one arm around behind herself and working her fingers into her tailbone. Already, the skin that peeks out just above her towel is mottled with purple and blue, like the bruising of a sky just before a storm.

Castle kneels beside her on the mattress and rests his hand over the sore spot, hoping the warmth of his palm can soothe her some. It makes her sigh and her eyes flutter closed again, her lips thinning out as she relaxes into his touch.

Removing his hand, he nudges the towel down a tiny bit more and stoops over his wife's back, dusting his lips to the angry spread of skin at the very base of her spine. It makes her snort and she rears up, supporting her weight on her elbows and twisting to look at him.

"Did you just kiss it better?"

"Um, yes?" he gulps, his thumb drawing slow circles over the crest of her hip in the hope that it'll distract her.

It doesn't work. Instead she rolls right over, the towel caught underneath her so that she's totally naked, and she arches one perfect eyebrow at him. "You do realise that you just literally kissed my ass?"

He chokes on a breath of laughter and crashes into her, smudges a clumsy kiss to her lips. Kate catches him by the ears and tugs him a little more upright so that she can get her mouth against his properly. He lets her manhandle him, opens right up to the sweep of her tongue.

"Not exactly the first time," he says when he breaks away from their kiss, and two spots of lovely colour appear high up in her cheeks right before she hides her face against his neck. "Get dressed, Kate. It's freezing."

Castle squirms up the bed to lean against the headboard and watch his wife pick out an outfit, his head cocked in admiration as she stretches onto the balls of her feet in front of the dresser. She goes with blue jeans, distressed patches on the knees and the top of her right thigh.

Paired with a cream long sleeved shirt and a pale grey waterfall cardigan, she looks entirely un-Beckett like. Dressed down, and his heart sings out in gratitude at being here to see it, being the one allowed to reel her in and kiss the crown of her head.

"Let's get the fire going." She unties her hair and lets it spill across her shoulders. It's a little wild, kinks making it fly out in different directions, and Kate smoothes her hands over it. "Still want me to teach you?"

"Yes please," he says. Eagerness propels him out of bed and towards his wife. She lets him snag hold of her, one hand in hers and ushering her out of the bedroom with him, and Kate presses her lips together and says nothing.

He follows her lead then, kneeling at her side in front of the fireplace and sitting back on his heels, hands neatly folded in his lap so that he doesn't get in her way. There's an iron guard at the mouth of the fire, like ornate teeth to stop the ash and the kindling from spilling out, and Kate eases it out of the way and sets it to one side.

There's a brush hanging on the stand with the rest of the fireplace tools and Kate hands it to him, the edges of her lips blurry with amusement. "You need to sweep it out. Clear away all the ash and everything. Here, put it in the dustpan."

She hands it over and he sets to work, careful to get the brush into the little crevices of the fireplace. Once he's done Kate takes the dustpan from him and disappears to the kitchen for a minute to dump the contents into the trashcan.

"Okay," she says when she comes back, fixing the grill back into place at the front of the fire. "First thing you need to do is pile up some kindling. Not too much, and you need to make sure there's plenty of space in between for the air to circulate."

He does as he's told, reaching for a handful of dry sticks and twigs from the metal bucket beside the fireplace. He does his best to leave spaces, glancing over his shoulder and earning himself a firm nod of encouragement from Beckett.

"Good job," she says when he's done, darting in to kiss the very corner of his mouth. "Alright, next thing is tinder."

"Heh," he sniggers, wiping his palms off on his thighs. Satisfied that he's not still covered in forest detritus and crumbling charcoal, he reaches for Kate and reels her in close, a hand at the back of her head. "Would you swipe right for me, Beckett?"

She scowls at him, but it only makes him grin wider, entirely unable to help himself. He kisses the furrowed skin just above her nose, shifting across to nibble very gently at her eyebrow and she jolts, tugging back from him. "Of course I would. But you'd better not have that app, Castle."

"Course not," he says, dipping down to kiss her mouth. Kate tips her chin up but he's already pulling back, stroking his thumbs over her cheeks. "Only person I want to be swiping is you."

He earns himself an eye roll for that and Kate gestures to the newspaper piled up just next to the stone surround of the fireplace. "You need to scrunch up a few sheets, so you're increasing the surface area and making air pockets."

"Like this?" he checks with her, crumpling the first sheet into a ball as if to toss it into a trashcan. Instead he sets it in the fireplace on top of the kindling at her nod, comes back to scrunch up a few more sheets of newspaper.

"Alright, now the fun part," she smiles, lifting up on her knees to grab the box of matches from the mantel. "You need to strike a match, and light the edge of the paper. In a couple of places. Don't burn your fingers."

His hands look comedically large around the little match when he plucks one free from the box and he feels like a cartoon, goofy and hulking. Castle strikes it against the rough edge of the box and flame immediately licks at the rounded head of the match.

The paper catches easily and he tosses the match into the fireplace, uses another to light a second crumpled ball of paper. Pumping his fist in the air, he cries out in victory and sets the matchbox down, twists to look at his wife. "I did it! I made fire."

"You did," she laughs, hands at his cheeks to keep him steady as she leans in to kiss him. Her lips are so warm and soft, so good, and he slides his arms around her shoulders and tugs on her until she comes half into his lap.

The fire is crackling now, the kindling starting to catch alight, and he keeps both arms around Kate and props his chin at her shoulder to watch the results of his work.

"Once it all starts to catch we can add some logs to it. Smaller ones first, working up to the biggest. Wanna come choose them from the garage?"

He gets to his feet, reaching for her hand and curling his fingers around hers. He's so happy today, his body not yet grumbling at him for the exertion out on the ice, and now he's got a fire that _he made_ to kneel in front of and warm his wind-sawed fingers against.

In the garage, he takes Kate's direction and chooses the best logs, easing them free from the monstrous pile. "Should we go and chop some? I don't want to leave your dad with a depleted supply."

"That's sweet of you," she says, and he gets one of those smiles where her lips tilt just a little, her pride all in her eyes. "But it's okay. Dad usually gathers enough wood to last most of the winter at the end of summer, before the rain starts. So it's got enough time to dry before he needs it. He'll be fine."

"Okay," he says easily, following Kate back into the house with both arms wrapped tight around the logs that he chose and her two fingers hooked in the sleeve of his shirt. Back at the fireplace, he sets down his little collection of logs and adds the smallest one to the fireplace, watching in satisfaction as the flames lick at it.

Kate's fingers skim across the back of his shoulder as she gets up and heads for the armchair. Curling up in the seat, she dangles her legs over the side and stretches her socked feet, rotating her ankles. He stays where he is on the floor, keeping watch over the fire. The log that he chose tapers at one end, slender like a wrist, and he turns to see Beckett.

"Hey. You ever think that logs are just tree arms?"

She laughs so hard that she almost tips out of her chair, one hand over her mouth and her eyes scrunching closed. Eventually she catches her breath, but she's still tipsy with giggling and he knee walks over to the armchair and sits on the floor at her feet, grinning at her from under the flop of his bangs.

"Tree arms, Castle? Really?" she manages, swiping at her cheeks, and then she slides down out of her seat and into his lap, arms winding around his neck.

She kisses the jut of his chin and he works his hands underneath her shirt, thumbs resting either side of her belly button. "Well we do call them limbs. Not that far off."

"Not very writerly," she counters, but she's a warm and squirming thing in his lap as she gets herself settled. Her head comes to rest against his shoulder and she pats his chest as if she's pleased with him. Her eyes are on the fire he built, her lips still thinning around the curve of amusement at her mouth, and maybe she is.

"You warm enough?" he says, shifting to lean back against the armchair and stretch his legs out. She's crushing his thigh, her butt bones grating against his own femur, and he tries to shift her just a little. "And comfortable? How's your ass?"

That has another shower of giggles erupting from her and she grins up at him, tucks her hair back behind her ear. "Much better since you kissed it."

"Are you sure?"

"Actually," she thinks a moment, head tilted, and then she frowns and slides carefully out of his lap. "Still kinda hurts."

Castle gets to his feet and draws Kate up as well, crowding her towards the couch. He flops down dramatically to sit and pats the cushion next to him, but instead Kate sits at the other end. She steals a couple of pillows to pad the arm of the couch and leans back against them, her legs stretching out across the cushions and her feet in his lap.

He wraps a hand around one of her feet just to feel her toes wiggle in his grip, see the shy little smile she offers him. In truth, he'd prefer to snuggle than have her all the way over there, but she looks so adorably content that he won't dare try to shift her.

"Any plans for the rest of today?" he asks, his thumb stroking back and forth along the top of her foot, right where her toes join. It tickles even through her sock and she kicks out against his grip, shoots him a petulant look when he refuses to let her go.

"I was thinking we might head up to the farm?" she says once she's settled again and he's offered a wordless promise to behave. "I don't want to bother them tomorrow or New Year's Day, but I'd really like to see Jay and Abby."

Kate's friends are so warm, so lovely, and the anticipation at seeing them again sends a little thrill through his chest. And more than that, the thought of getting to see Kate with them. How much they love her, how they fuss and turn her this way and that and she just smiles and accepts their hugs and looks so joyful.

"Sounds great. Are they open in the winter?"

"Oh yeah, they do these Christmas markets and sell produce and crafts and stuff. I'll call them first though, I don't think they're open between Christmas and New Year."

He nods, and then he turns back to watch the fire dance and crackle in the gaping mouth of the fireplace. He did that, and yes Kate held his hand all the way through, but he feels confident now that he could manage again on his own. Silly, Neanderthal pride fills him up and he tries not to grunt, not to hoist Kate over his shoulder and carry her back to bed.

"But babe," she says, and he turns his head back to face her. She's worrying at her bottom lip, has the flesh trapped between her teeth so that all of the colour leaches out. "We're gonna catch hell from Jay and Abby."

"We are? Why?"

She huffs a breath of laughter and swipes a hand over her face, peeking at him from over the jagged rise of her fingertips. "For not getting married at the farm. You remember what Jay said when we were there, about not forgetting that they do weddings when the time came."

"Oh, honey, no," he says, manoeuvring awkwardly on the couch until he can get an arm around her. He scoops her in close, mindful of the bruising at her back, and he rocks her against his chest a little. "Sweetie they love you. So much. I saw it. So trust me, they'll be happy for us. And they'll understand that our wedding was last minute and really intimate."

"But what about all the planning," she says, hiding her face against him. "Castle, all the searching we did for a venue, and we had one there the whole time. We ignored them. We _forgot_ them."

He cards a clumsy hand through her hair and cradles her close, his lips at her forehead and drifting across to her temple. Since he got booted from the precinct, they've both been a little melodramatic about everything, had to take turns in soothing the other.

Stroking a thumb across the jut of her bottom lip, Castle rests at the corner of her mouth until she manages a small smile. "We were busy, Kate. Stressed out, trying to figure out who to invite and when we were going to do it. Trying to get everyone upstate would have just been another challenge."

"I guess," she sighs, but all of the grumpiness is seeping slowly out of her and he watches as it circles the drain. "But I still feel bad."

"We'll apologise. At least seven times. Does that help?"

Lifting her chin to meet his eyes, Kate darts in to steal a fast kiss from his lips and then she tucks herself underneath his chin again, both of her legs hooked over his thighs. "Yeah. That helps."


	8. Chapter 8

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

When Kate comes off the phone she's giddy, goofy with it, and her teeth cut into her bottom lip as if to stop the slow spread of her grin. It doesn't work; that lopsided smile grows wider, her face scrunched up with it.

"We're invited over for lunch."

Kate dumps her cell phone at the kitchen island to come to him. Her arms slide low down around his waist and she steps in close, tucking herself neatly against his chest. She fits so well like this and he beams, wraps her up in his hug.

"Lunch sounds fantastic. Are we sure we're not intruding?"

Kate shakes her head, her skull butting against the bottom of his chin, and he lets her step back from his arms. She's so cute, rocking up onto the balls of her feet. Her hands are clasped together and pressed against her chest, between her breasts. "No. Abby sounded delighted to hear from us. Insisted that we leave right now and come over."

"Right now?" Castle scrapes a hand over his jaw and winces. He didn't shave this morning, because he was so eager to get out on the ice. Didn't shave yesterday either; the moment his eyes came open Kate had been hopping around like a sparrow, eager and anxious for him to finish packing so that they could get going.

He looks scruffy, his stubble not quite at the length yet where it seems purposeful, and he doesn't want this to be the impression he gives to Kate's family friends.

She must catch him, because she comes in close and presses her lips to his jaw. A little dry with the heat of the cabin, but warm and soft too. "You look good. Rugged. I like it."

"Thanks."

Kate's palms come to his chest and she pushes on him, steering him with a harder press of her left or her right hand. He walks slowly backwards through the living space, trusting his wife's directions, and his shoulder only barely glances against the doorframe of the bedroom.

"Get bundled up, babe," she says, detouring to the dresser before she comes back to sit at the end of their bed. Kate pulls on socks, tucking the bottoms of her jeans down inside, and once she's done she springs up again and moves to grab a red tartan scarf from the hook inside the closet.

For Christmas, Castle's mother bought him a new coat. It's aviator style, but it almost looks double layered. The outside is gunmetal leather, rich and buttery, and then underneath that a layer of chocolate suede. Sheepskin at the collar, and edging the edges of the leather at the sleeves and the bottom of the jacket to add to the layered look. It's deliciously warm, makes his shoulders look broader than normal, and when he shrugs his way inside it Kate comes to lay her cheek to his bicep.

He reaches for his own scarf, careful not to dislodge her, and he winds the length of blue striped wool around his neck. "Okay. I'm good. Just shoes."

"I'm gonna wear my rubber boots," she grins. Kate heads for the French doors at the back of the cabin where she kicked off her shoes earlier and she pulls them back on, clacks her heels together. "Or do I look sloppy?"

"Look great," he says. Her boots are the same vivid red as her scarf, as the colour that blooms in her cheeks and the tip of her nose when she's cold.

Castle's shoes are brown leather, but there hasn't been any snow yet and he's not too worried about ruining them. He heads for the entryway to grab them from the shoe rack, his wife a silent and cheerful spirit at his back as he crouches to tie his shoelaces.

Straightening again, he rotates his shoulders inside the jacket to adjust the way that it's sitting, and he reaches for Kate. She ignores him in favour of shrugging her way into her camel coat, patting her pockets to make sure she's got her phone and keys.

Once she's satisfied, Kate opens the front door and gestures for him to head down the porch steps and to the car. He moves for the passenger side automatically, flicking a glance at her from over the top of the car just to check, and he smiles to see her already sliding into the driver's seat.

Kate turns the key and the engine rolls over with a throaty growl, the heaters on full blast and roaring. He holds his fingers splayed in front of the vents, grateful for how fast this car warms up. It has heated seats too and he presses the button to warm his.

"Want your seat?"

"Oh, yeah," she says. Kate tilts her head and hums, one hand working down into the space between her body and the seat to rub against her coccyx. "It'll help my butt."

He laughs, presses the button to start Kate's chair warming, and he leans back against the headrest. She gives the car a minute or so to get warm, waiting for the windshield to defrost, and once there's a strip of clear glass wide enough to see out of, she reverses smoothly out of the driveway.

Castle's phone has connected to the bluetooth automatically and his music starts up. He glances over at Kate and she smiles, reaches out to turn up the volume so that they can hear the song over the roar of the heaters. She drives with one hand at the wheel, and her other rests at his knee.

The car cuts a smooth streak through the landscape, mossy green and bare branches dipping down to crack against the roof of the Buick. The music swells within the space of the car and Kate drums along to the beat. He can't help his smile, sings the melody quietly back in counterpart to her rhythm. The roads are gritty beneath the wheels, and when the car is finally warm and Kate turns the heat down they can suddenly hear the rip of the vehicle through the countryside.

They're silent for most of the drive, and when Kate pulls into the empty parking lot of the farm he sits up a little straighter and strains against his seatbelt. The lot is uneven, littered with potholes like moon scarring and his teeth rattle in his skull as Kate drives closer to the farm buildings.

When they get out of the car he comes around and reaches for Kate's hand, tucks her gloveless fingers up against his paw. He stuffs their joined hands into his coat pocket, and it brings her in close so that her hip nudges against his as they walk.

"This way," she tugs on him and he goes easily, trotting happily along beside her as they head for the farmhouse. It has a wraparound porch, an enormous chimney breast rising up through the middle of the building with smoke curling from the top.

He keeps a tight hold of Kate's hand as they climb the porch steps and ring the doorbell, bouncing eagerly on his toes as they wait. After a moment the door pops open and Abby beams, draws them both inside and wraps her arms around their shoulders.

"Oh Katie, Rick, it's so good to see you."

"Hi Abby," Kate says. Her hand is still in his pocket and her fingers wiggle in easy joy against his palm, her smile arcing wide.

Castle lets her go so that she can hug her friend properly, and he shrugs out of his coat. The house is so warm, and he unwinds his scarf too. Abby's husband appears from the kitchen and touches his wife's arm, waits for her to let go of Beckett so that Jay can capture her in a hug of his own.

Once they've both had their fill Jay comes to shake Castle's hand, pumping his entire arm, and Kate laughs and steps in close to wrap a hand around Rick's bicep. There's a flurry of activity, their hosts taking their coats and scarves to hang up, and then they're led to the kitchen.

They head right, moving across the dining room and through an archway to get to the spacious room of the kitchen and the little breakfast nook. He kind of likes that the house isn't open plan like the cabin or the loft, likes the old-fashioned feeling of the separate rooms.

"Can I get you two some drinks?" Abby says, already pulling glasses down from a cabinet. "We've got water, milk, fruit juices. Or tea or coffee."

"Or wine," Jay cuts in, earning himself a swat to the arm from his wife. He laughs and neatly dodges Abby's hand. "You a wine guy, Rick? Or beer?"

Castle laughs and shakes his head, shares a glance with Kate. Her lips are pressed together and thin with amusement and she arches an eyebrow at him. Turning back to Jay, Castle shrugs his shoulders and pushes his sleeve back up past his elbow where it's starting to fall down.

"I'm a scotch man, mostly. But it depends on the mood. Kate and I will usually have wine with dinner, and beer after we close a case." That stops him short and he works a hand against his jaw, can't manage to meet her eyes. "Or, well, we did."

"Castle," Kate says quietly, and he has to turn away.

It takes him a second, a gruff swallow or two, but he gets himself together. For God's sake, it's not like they'll never go for a beer at the Old Haunt again, never crowd into their booth with Ryan and Espo. "I'm fine."

Abby's concerned eyes are darting between him and Kate, Jay silent and very still at Castle's back. After a moment, Abby nods once and reaches for Kate, curls her fingers at her elbow.

"Jay, how about you show Rick the rest of the house, and Katie can help me plate up our lunch."

Castle follows Jay's lead, heading back for the dining room, and before they're even out of earshot Kate is speaking to Abby, her voice low and urgent as she explains that her partner has been booted from the precinct.

He quickens his steps, almost bumps into Jay when he stops beside the dining table. It's already laid out with four place settings, two on either side of the rectangular oak and an ornate centrepiece in the middle.

"Your house is amazing," Castle says to break the silence. He gets a nod from Jay for his efforts, and the man pushes his hands into the pockets of his overalls. Even when they first met and Jay took Castle on a tour of the farm while the girls nattered, he didn't say much, and Rick has to force himself not to chatter nonsense just to fill the quiet air.

He follows along behind Jay as they move through the rest of the house. Occasionally, Kate's friend shares a little snippet of information, points out architectural moments of interest. There's a rocker in the family room, an intricate and sturdy thing with a padded seat, and Jay tells him that Kate's father made it as a wedding gift.

They're called back through to the dining room eventually and they share a look at the insistence in Abby's voice, the shrill little lift to the end of her sentence. It makes him smile, warm affection bubbling in his chest. They sit at their places, diagonally across from one another with an empty chair beside them each, and when Kate appears with an apron tied around her waist and her hair piled on top of her head he can't help his grin.

She's got a plate in each hand and she sets one down in front of him, puts her own down at his side before she sits. "I told Abby we'd both have water. That okay?"

"Of course," he says easily. There's a tall glass next to his placemat, little beads of condensation sliding down the side to land on the coaster, and he takes a sip. "This looks amazing, Abby. Thank you."

"Thank you Rick," she says, glancing at the three of them to make sure that everybody has what they need.

Castle starts to pick up his cutlery and Kate lays a hand at his thigh, squeezes just a little. He turns his head towards her, mouth already open in question, and she tips her head just slightly across the table towards Jay and Abby.

They each have their heads bowed; Kate dips her chin and he follows suit, closes his eyes to listen to Abby say grace, thank God for their meal. Not something he's ever done before, but it's kind of nice. Humbling, and he covers Kate's hand in his beneath the table and squeezes.

Dinner is so good that he hardly talks at all, shovelling down mouthfuls of beef casserole and potatoes while Kate and Abby chatter about what's been happening at the farm in the two and a half years since they were last here.

Jay pipes up every now and then, growing more animated when Kate asks him about the animals, and Castle just chews and listens. There are stories about the piglets that Castle and Beckett got to watch as they made their slippery way into the world; he has to swallow hard when Jay tells them that all but one of the pigs was sold on for meat.

He loves the house and the grounds, loves the low bray of the cows and the insistent snorts of the pigs as they root in the muck, but he's not convinced he could be a farmer. Not like this. He's too lily-livered to send the animals to the slaughter, would just end up running the place as a sanctuary.

"Do I need to be feeding you more?" Kate laughs once he's scraped his plate clean. Her elbow nudges into his bicep and he leans back against his chair, pats at his lips with the napkin.

"I must have worked up an appetite while we were skating earlier," he says. Across the table, he meets Abby's eyes and he smiles, rests his knife and fork neatly together in the middle of the plate. "And it was delicious. I couldn't help it."

Abby gets half out of her seat, dumping the napkin from her lap into her chair. "Can I get you a second helping? Anybody else need anything?"

"Oh no I'm fine, thank you," he waves a hand and she sits slowly back down again, resumes eating.

Now that he's finished his meal he rejoins the conversation, steering it towards the Christmas activities they host on the farm and how many visitors they tend to attract. It's fascinating, and for half a second he wants to suggest to his wife that they sell their loft and buy a plot of land out here, raise a brood of kids and live off the land. Maybe get a goat or two.

It would never work; they're city people, both of them, and they'd go stir crazy inside of five minutes if they had to live here all the time. It's nice to dip in to this life, but he wouldn't trade what they have now.

"So," Abby says once they're all done eating and the plates have been cleared. There's dessert still to come apparently, and Castle marvels at how she seems to have been immediately ready to play hostess. "Katie, honey, please tell me you have some wedding pictures to show us."

"I do," Castle pipes up, already pulling his phone free from the pocket of his jeans. Alexis was chief photographer on their wedding day, and afterwards he uploaded all of the pictures she got to his phone. He has a separate album in his camera roll now, for occasions just like this.

When he gets to brag about his wife.

"Isn't she gorgeous," he says, coming around the table to half-crouch between Jay and Abby's chairs. Abby gasps, a hand flying up to her mouth, and already her lashes are clinging together.

In the first picture their heads are bent close, noses brushing. His arm is around her waist, hers curled up and her hand at his shoulder, and she's a slender and graceful line in those high-waisted pants. They both have their eyes closed, not smiling, and it just might be his favourite one.

"Katie," Abby starts, her voice falling away to nothing. Shaking her head, she blinks hard and Kate comes up out of her chair and around the table, wraps her arms tight around her friend. "Sweetheart, look at you. So beautiful."

"Come on now," Kate laughs. There's an empty chair at the head of the table and she hooks her foot around one of the legs and tugs it until it's right next to Abby's. Sinking to sit, she peels Abby's hand away from her mouth and clasps it in both of hers. "Don't cry. It was my happiest day."

Abby manages a watery laugh at that, and Jay makes a gruff noise in the back of his throat. Phone still held between the two of them, Rick's thumb hovers above the screen, ready to swipe and show them the next pictures.

"When you've known someone since they were seven years old, and you've seen them go through so many awful hurts when they deserve so much, for them to finally be happy is emotional, Katherine."

"Right. Sorry," she laughs. Kate is always so eager to show off their wedding photos and she leans forward now, a hand at the back of Abby's chair as she waits for him to scroll.

They work through the rest of the album, some posed and some candid. The very last one is another of his favourites and he grins. "Jim was catcalling us."

In the picture, Castle's eyes are on Kate's father where he stood out of the frame, calling out to them both. His smile is that goofy, lopsided one that stems from pure joy, and he remembers how it had washed through him clean and cool like brazen morning light. One arm is around Kate, his other hand at her hip.

His wife has a palm resting against his chest, but her eyes aren't on her father. She's looking right at Alexis, right at the camera. Her head is dipped so that her cheek almost meets his shoulder and her smile is so amazing. It's the one that shows all of her teeth, lips thinning around the stretch of her happy mouth.

This is the one he has framed on his desk at home, the one that was his phone's screensaver until a couple of weeks ago. He'd run out for coffee then, because their case had been going nowhere, and she'd sent him a picture message of her face propped in the cup of her palm and all scrunched up in grumpiness. So adorable that he had immediately saved it, set it as his wallpaper.

"You look so wonderful. Both of you," Abby says, squeezing Kate's hand. Her voice is a little thin still and she sniffs, swipes her fingertips underneath her eye. They come away dry and she laughs, shakes her head. "Now, dessert. Before I really start crying."

* * *

"I am never going to eat again," he groans, sprawled on the couch. He's got one hand pressed to his stomach and it gurgles as he digests, makes him laugh to himself. Kate always complains whenever she curls up with him after they eat, as if he's supposed to control the volume of his intestines, and she'll huff and refuse to pillow her head against his stomach.

Right now she's on her knees at the fireplace, prodding around to see if she can get the ashes to spark or if they might have to start from scratch. He feels heavy with food and happiness. Sleepy too, and he wonders if he can persuade her to nap with him.

His eyes are closed, and her yelp of victory startles him, has him lifting up on an elbow to see what she's doing. Tiny flames are starting to lick at the kindling and tinder that Kate has artfully arranged, and she lifts up on her knees in anticipation.

It makes his heart twist to see it, how adorably girlish she is, and he gets up from the couch and comes to sit on the floor beside her. His bones creak as he sits and he huffs, arranges his skeleton to fit more comfortably.

"Good job honey."

"Thanks," she says. Kate shifts sideways just a little until she can rest her head against his shoulder and he kisses her crown, smells woodsmoke and Abby's perfume on her. "It was nice to see them. I'm glad we did that."

"Me too," he agrees. Already the heat of the fire is making his skin feel pulled too tight, as if little screws at either side of his jaw are turning measure by measure. It makes him scrunch his nose, contort his face, and Kate laughs beside him.

The floor isn't exactly comfortable, and he's still a little worried about her. She fell so many times this morning, smacked down hard onto the ice, and her body must be grumbling at her for it now. He's happy to massage her bruising, draw her another bath, but this is Kate.

When she came to him that first night she had been dangling by her fingertips only an hour earlier, her life force a thread unspooling faster than she could hold on to. Her body had blossomed with fresh hurt, and still she had drawn him over her. Backed him up against the tile.

His wife has never found it easy to admit that she's in pain, but he's hopeful. If he can get her to do it wordlessly, to acquiesce to the ways he wants to help, he might just get away with coddling her.

Castle drums his fingers against her thigh and she lifts her head to look at him, takes his hand when he offers it. He brings her to her feet and fists his hands in the ends of her scarf to reel her in close, kiss the tip of her nose. "I'm full, and I'm sleepy. Wanna nap with me?"

Kate shakes her head, but she's already framing his face in her hands and coming in to kiss him properly. "You know I'm not a napper."

"You got up even earlier than me," he grumps. "Aren't you worn out from skating?"

"Not tired," she shakes her head. "Just sore. But okay. Compromise?"

"What?"

He's huffy, and it makes her laugh and wind her arms around his neck, steal another kiss from his mouth. Her tongue slicks inside this time, and when she draws back her teeth nibble at his bottom lip. "You nap, and I'll come and read next to you."

"Okay." Pleasure thrums through his system and he wiggles. Spinning her around, he wraps his arms around her from behind and herds her towards their bedroom. Their walk is clumsy, his legs wide to accommodate hers, and she stumbles and almost goes to the ground a couple of times.

They make it eventually and he bounces his way onto the mattress, flopping down against the pillows. Castle worms his body underneath the covers and tucks himself in, curled up facing Kate's side. She comes around the bed and slides in beside him, propping herself up against the headboard with a bunch of pillows.

Her book is on the nightstand but she doesn't reach for it yet. Instead, Kate sifts her fingers through his hair over and over, pushing his bangs back out of his face. He never bothers to use product when it's just the two of them and they're not going anywhere so it's a little fluffy.

Eventually her fingers skim down the side of his face and she thumbs the very edge of his jaw, draws a smooth line across to his chin. "I like the not shaving."

"Just for you," he says back. His eyes are closing now, and he snuggles further into the mattress. It puts him closer to her, forehead at her hip, and he presses a sloppy kiss to her thigh through her jeans. "Sure you're not tired?"

"I'm sure," she laughs.

He wants to stay awake, wants to talk with her for hours. Wants her to lay nose to nose with him on the pillow and tuck herself in against his body. She's here though, one hand still working absentmindedly in a swirling pattern across the side of his face, flirting with his ear.

She scoops her book from the nightstand and opens it, draws her knees up to rest her paperback against the slope of them, but her touch still flows over him like cool spring water and she turns the pages with one hand. He watches for as long as he can manage to, the cute little scrunch of her face when she encounters an interesting phrase, but her fingers are drugging where they sift through his hair and eventually he topples right over into sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

Kate reads for an about an hour, her husband napping hard on his stomach in the bed beside her. His face is mashed into the pillow, mouth open, and every so often he mumbles and scrubs his cheek against the soft cotton of the sheets.

Adorable, and her fingers are still flirting with the shell of his ear. When he comes awake his smile blooms immediately and he scrubs a fist against his eyes, scrunching his face up. She huffs a little laugh and removes her hand, lets him figure out where he is.

He's slow to waking, his body arcing off the mattress in a stretch, and when he flops back down flat to the bed a grumbly roar escapes him. "Kate. Hi."

"Hi," she says back. His hair is sticking up all over his head, his bangs plastered to his forehead, and he runs both hands through it. "Good sleep?"

"Mm," he groans. He's a dead weight like this, and every time he shifts her body topples towards his. As she read she slipped further and further down the headboard, and now Castle has his mouth open at the sliver of skin above the waistband of her jeans. "Yeah. I was tired."

"I figured."

He laughs, and he struggles his way upright until he's propped against the headboard. Chin at her shoulder, he peeks at her book. Dusts a kiss to the edge of her jaw while he's here, and Kate smiles and tips into him. "How's your book?"

"It's good," she says. Kate folds it closed, two fingers tucked inside to keep her place, and she leans back against the bough of Castle's arm behind her. He's a little clammy with sleep-sweat and he smacks his lips, working his tongue around his mouth to dispel the sock taste.

"I wanna go for a walk," he announces. Castle shifts in the bed until he's kneeling beside her, eagerness propelling him forward so that his body looms over hers. She laughs and catches him with two hands at his cheeks, accepts the clumsy kiss he smudges to her mouth. "Kate, let's get out into nature."

"Okay. Let me finish my page."

He's already out of bed, rolling his shoulders to awaken the drowsy muscles, and he disappears in the bathroom to wash his face. "Finish your chapter. There's no hurry."

She tries to focus, really she does, but with the bathroom door open she can see him in the mirror as he fixes his hair, turns his face this way and that to inspect the dark and prickling regrowth at his jaw. He catches her eyes in the reflection and he grins, blows her a kiss.

It makes her roll her eyes, but she reaches out to snatch it from the air anyway, presses her palm to her heart to store his kiss there. He rinses with mouthwash and steals some of her lip balm, his finger comically large in the tiny pot.

"Staring's creepy, Beckett," he calls out. Her head snaps back to the book propped against her knees and she forces herself to focus, follows the narrative all the way through to the end of the chapter.

It's a good stopping place and she slides her bookmark neatly inside, sets the paperback down on her nightstand. Kate gets out of bed and comes to join her husband in the bathroom, sliding her arms around his waist from behind.

Her lips form a kiss against the plane of his shoulder blade and she tucks her fingertips into the front pockets of his jeans to align her body with his. Castle twists over his shoulder to see her, makes a pitiful noise when she keeps her nose pressed to his back, and she laughs and gives him enough room to turn around.

When he kisses her the lip balm gets smeared between them and she lifts a finger to her lips to smooth it over them properly. "You taste good."

"Taste like you," he fires back. His lips are shiny with balm and her kiss both and she smoothes her thumb over his bottom lip, leaves her hand at his jaw. "You wanna come on a walk? Don't have to."

He says it, but he's peering at her from the corner of his eye, his body drawn up tight. Kate lets her palm slide down and rests it against his chest, her free hand curving around the back of his neck. "Yes. Definitely. Let me get my coat."

Lifting up on tiptoe in her bare feet, she presses a kiss to the very corner of his mouth and lingers there to feel the growth of his smile. His hands come to her hips and work their way underneath her shirt, fingers flexing at bare skin. It takes a concentrated effort to tug away but she does, thinks of wandering through the woods with his hand in hers.

She moves through the cabin and gathers the layers she shed earlier, pulling on her coat and hat. Her gloves are tucked into her pocket and she leaves them there, heading for the front door to step into her rubber boots. Castle crosses her path on the way and he hooks an arm around her waist, the momentum of their hurrying whipping her around and crashing her hard into his chest.

"Hey there," he laughs down at her. She opens her mouth to respond but he's already kissing her. Right as she lifts into it he steps away entirely and wanders through to the living room to find his jacket. For a moment she watches him, the cling of his sweater across the broad stretch of his shoulders, the narrow taper of his waist.

She wants to walk side by side with him in the woods, wants to pick along trails made more sparse by the winter and tuck herself in close for shelter. Kate shakes herself and heads to put her shoes on, wiggling her feet down inside the boots.

He's waiting for her at the French doors, jacket on and his scarf wrapped around his neck a couple of times, and he takes her hand in his. With his other he reaches for the door handle, but Kate is already looking outside and she stays him with a hand at his chest.

Just at the edge of the woods there's a rustle of movement, a shadow lumbering lazily through the trees, and Kate holds her breath. Castle is oblivious beside her, but she waves a hand in front of his face and his mouth snaps shut.

The bear breaks away from the tree line and heads for the lake. He moves smoothly, broad shoulders rippling beneath his pelt, and when he makes it to the shore he dips his head. His tongue flicks out to drink, muzzle twitching. The lake is still a frozen sheet, like a single shard of glass nestled in the bowl of the mountains. When the bear comes up against the ice he rears onto his hind legs in surprise, paws in the air.

After he recovers from the initial shock he continues to lick at the ice, his nose almost pressed to the surface too. His hot breaths must melt the ice enough for him to slake his thirst and the flash of his tongue continues to dart out. Even from the house they can see how his nostrils twitch as he snorts, and Kate clings tight to Castle's hand.

The bear tries to tug away from the surface of the lake, his tongue a long and pink stretch, and a burst of laughter erupts from Castle's chest.

"Kate. His tongue is stuck to the ice. I'm gonna go pet him while he can't eat me."

"Castle _no_ ," she gasps, fisting a hand in the material of his shirt between his shoulder blades.

He doesn't tug against her grip, doesn't make a move to open the door, and too late she realises that he was only teasing. Her partner is a goof, yes, but not an idiot. Castle takes his hand back from her and sidesteps to put himself behind her, winds his arms around her waist.

Chin propped on her shoulder like this, she feels the hot little puffs of his breath against her ear and she knocks her temple against his. His body thrums with amazement behind her, and she counts down slowly in her head. Right as she reaches one, he untangles himself from around her and presses himself against the door instead.

One hand flails behind him until she catches it in hers and comes up to stand beside him, her thumb working back and forth over the smooth skin at the base of his.

"It's winter," he says. His palm is clammy, the hand not in hers pressed to the pane of glass in the door, and his nose almost touching the glass as well. "Why is he awake?"

She laughs and steps in closer, lays her head against Castle's shoulder to watch the bear get his fill of the water. "Bears don't actually hibernate. Not the way we think. True hibernation means they stay asleep for the entire winter and it's not easy to wake them, but bears can wake up really easily when they're in torpor."

"Sexy," he breathes. Castle's hand at the window curls into a fist and he darts a glance at her from the corner of his eye, lips thinning into a leer. "Tell me more."

"Well he's a black bear. So sometimes they even wake up to snack during their hibernation period. In the south it's only the pregnant mothers that hibernate at all."

Castle is quiet for a moment, pondering that, and then he peels himself away from the glass and turns to look at her. "It's not exactly a mild winter though. It's freezing."

"He might have been startled by a noise and that woke him up, and he realised that he's hungry."

They stay watching the bear, Kate's heart in her throat. Her father has always been careful not to feed the bears, not to leave any trash around that they can get to, so she doesn't think he'll come up to the cabin. Even so, the girlish part of her hopes that he will, imagines that massive head butting against her palm.

The bear lifts up on his hind legs again, his shoulders broad and rippling, and Kate presses three fingers to her mouth to stifle her bubbling laughter. "He looks like you, babe."

"The bear looks like me?" Castle squeaks, whipping around to look at her. He narrows his eyes and she can't help the spill of giggles. It makes him pout, makes him grumble, and that does it.

Bent double, Kate gasps for breath and swipes at the tears that spill from her eyes. She tries to get it together, but the moment she looks at Castle with the scruff across his jaw and his shoulders squared off in defence she loses it again, has to turn away.

"He's cute," she manages. Kate bites hard at her bottom lip and peers up at him. His lips are set in a firm line, his face scrunched up in grouchiness. "You're cute. Cuddly."

" _Cuddly_?" he cries out.

Her compliment is entirely failing and Kate sighs, comes in to wind her arms around him and lay her head against his chest. He wraps her up in a hug like it's a reflex, his chin resting at the crown of her head. Kate slips her hands into his back pockets and squeezes; it makes him jerk against her, a strangled little noise of surprise and want escaping him.

"I love bears. They're curious, and so smart. They look all cuddly and soft, but if you threaten their family they'll rip your throat out. And they're sleepy."

"I see what you're doing," he says on a laugh. His fingers are sifting clumsily through her hair now, one giant paw cradling the back of her head. "Thank you for that backhanded compliment."

Kate turns her head, ear pressed over his heart to hear the steady _lubdub_ of its work. Like this she can still see the bear and she watches him lumber back and forth along the shoreline, as if he's searching for a place the water isn't frozen over so that he can try to fish.

It's not the first bear she's seen here at the cabin, but the first in a long time. Their breath is fogging up the glass in the door now and Castle untangles a hand from around her and reaches out to trace shapes into the window.

He draws a heart, scrawls their initials inside it. RC and KC and she makes a grumpy noise, knocks her cheek against him. He only laughs and kisses the top of her head, lips warm even through her hat.

"I think we might need to nix our walk if this guy's around."

"Do you think he'd attack us?" Castle asks. When she tugs back to see him his eyes are wide with real concern and he gulps, clutches at her biceps.

Kate lifts a hand to his cheek to soothe him, thumb stroking back and forth underneath his eye, and she draws his head down to her to push a kiss to his mouth. "They're actually more docile than you might think. They try to avoid confronting humans, and even when they are confronted by people they don't tend to attack."

"So we can pet him?"

"Not smart." Kate shakes her head, one corner of her mouth quirking up. "Their attacks are usually motivated by hunger rather than them being territorial, but it's still dangerous to approach them. Get a dog, babe."

She's laughing, teasing, but his whole face comes alive with joy and he clutches harder at her. "Can we?"

"Oh jeez," she says. She had been mostly kidding, and now she's put the idea in his head and there's no feasible way he's going to be able to let it go. "Castle we're so busy."

"I got kicked out of the precinct," he says. For the first time since it happened there's no doomsday toll ringing out in his words. Instead actual excitement fills him up and he grins at her. "I'm not busy at all. I can totally be at home with the dog all day. You could meet us on your lunch break and we could walk him in the park together."

Already, yearning is blooming in her chest. She imagines it, her husband and some great hulking beast at the end of the leash, slobbery licks to her face in greeting when she comes home in the evenings. Something to keep him company and keep him focused while he's at home by himself.

"We'll talk about it when we get back to the city, okay? Figure out if it's going to be practical for us."

"We're so getting a dog," he gloats. She can't even deny it, can only push feebly on his chest. When they looked after Royal for that short time she had wanted so badly to make it work, to have somebody greet her at the door with their tail wagging each night.

She has that now, and she scratches her nails lightly behind Castle's ear.

"What do you want to do then? Since we can't go outside for the time being."

He tilts his head to ponder it, eyes darting out of the window for a second. The bear is closer to the tree line now, his body a smooth and rippling shadow, but it's not safe to go near the woods until he's had time to settle back into sleep.

"I wanna build a fort," Castle announces. He tugs on her hand to bring her over to the couch with him, pushes on her shoulder until she sinks down to sit. "Near to the fire. And then I want to be obscenely lazy for the rest of the day."

"Well we did have a busy morning," she says. There's a sly tug to her lips and she lets it work its way across the curve of her mouth. Kate kicks her way out of her rubber boots and leaves them dumped on the floor, draws her legs up onto the couch.

Her tailbone still cries out in grumpiness with her whenever she moves too much, her entire body stiff from smacking down hard onto the ice so many times this morning. Lazing around for the evening in a fort sounds perfect.

"Can I help with your fort building?"

"Oh sure," he grins. Pleasure zips through him like a visible thrill and he comes to sit beside her on the couch, a sloppy kiss landing at her cheek. "Do we have a spare comforter and stuff? Or we can just strip our bed I guess, but then we'll have to dismantle everything tonight."

Kate lifts a shoulder at him and draws her knees up, props her chin on them. "Or we can just sleep in the fort tonight."

"I love you," he breathes, toppling clumsily towards her. He gets his mouth against hers and it's inelegant, eager tongue slicking past her lips. She fists a hand in the collar of his shirt to hold on, has to break away from the kiss entirely to laugh.

He's draped half over her on the couch, both of them still wrapped up warm in their scarves and coats, and Kate pants. "You're crushing me. And I'm too hot."

"Hot damn," he fires back, and she rolls her eyes.

Kate struggles out of her coat and scarf, tugs her hat off as well. The knitwear goes on the floor with her boots, but this coat was expensive and she gets up from the couch and pads through to their bedroom in her socked feet, hangs it up in the closet.

When she comes back Castle is down to just his sweater, sleeves pushed up past his elbows again, and she skims her fingertips over the length of his forearm as she comes to sit beside him. "I'm not that adept at making forts. Not as much as I figure you are."

"It's okay, I'll help you," he says. His arm slides around her shoulders, both of them getting comfortable on the couch, and she wonders if they're going to get around to fort building at all. She'd be equally happy to lounge on the couch with him, maybe tug a blanket over their laps.

After a moment, Castle rouses into action and gets up, claps his hands together. "Okay, we need to gather all of the soft furnishings in the entire house."

"I can do that."

They work hurriedly; Kate strips their bed of its pillows and comforter and comes back to dump everything in a heap on the couch. Castle has raided the linen closet and found extra blankets, and he collects the throw pillows from the various couches and armchairs.

"That enough?" she asks. Her face feels warm and she presses the back of a hand to her forehead, huffs a breath to blow the tiny baby hairs out of her eyes.

"Plenty."

She stands there, hands on her hips and waiting for the next direction from her husband. It makes him laugh and he comes for her, hooking his hands through the jut of her elbows and splaying his palms at her back, drawing her in close.

"Now who's a grumpy bear?"

"I didn't say you were-" she starts, but he's already laughing and dipping his chin to kiss her. His flat palms slide down either side of her spine until he gets to her butt and he hauls her in close, slides a knee between her thighs.

She rocks her hips against him and skims her hands up his chest until she can wind her arms around his neck. Her fingertips flirt with the downy skin at his nape and he hums into her mouth, his smile a rich taste. When he breaks away from their kiss he grins at her and swipes a thumb across her bottom lip.

"We need the dining chairs. Come on."

He's a patient teacher, his voice pitched low as he directs her where to set the chairs down and they form a square, two chairs on either side with their backs to one another. Castle rummages through the pile on the couch and comes back with the biggest blanket he can find, snapping his wrists so that it billows out.

It lands over the top of the chairs and he passes her a handful of clothes pegs, has her fasten the blanket down across the back of each of the chairs. Once they've done that, they hook a hand each under the chairs on their respective side and draw them slowly away from one another, pulling the blanket taut.

"We need a pole or something," Castle says. Their blanket roof is sagging in the middle and he looks forlorn, casts his eyes around the living room as if he's searching for inspiration.

She feels the knowledge like a bolt of lightning zipping down her spine and Kate pulls on her rubber boots and hurries outside, comes back with the pole that props up the clothes line at the back of the cabin. In the kitchen, she dampens paper towels to wipe away the winter grit.

"Pass me my gloves?"

He tosses them to her over the top of the kitchen island and she snags them from the air and pulls them on, flexing her fingers a couple of times to get comfortable. Even through the wool the metal pole is freezing, but at least her skin is no longer sticking.

Once she's satisfied that it's clean, she carries the pole back over to Castle. He's inside the fort, his face half obscured by the way the blanket hangs down, and he gestures for her to pass him the pole. Holding it upright, he lifts the roof of their fort and the whole thing comes alive, suddenly spacious and cosy instead of suffocating.

"Are you just gonna hold it?" she teases, sinking to her knees to smirk at him.

It makes him huff and he rolls his eyes, swapping which hand holds the pole every few seconds. His palms are already red, fingers bleached, and she takes pity on him. Kate collects the plumpest pillows, tugging the cushions off the couch as well and sliding them into the fort.

Castle does his best to prop up the pole at its base, piling up the heaviest cushions and pillows until it's secure. The weight of the blanket at the other end goes a long way to help it keep upright. Satisfied, he pokes his head out of the fort and gestures for Kate to bring in the rest of the blankets and pillows.

"There's a draft," she huffs. It makes him laugh and he tackles her flat to the blankets with an arm around her waist, his body pressing her down. Her knees fall open and she winds her arms around him again, rolling her head against the soft ground.

His hips rock down sharply against hers, but in the next second he gets up and leaves the fort entirely, moves around the back. He's got another blanket and he drapes it carefully over the back end of their fort. For a second she thinks the whole thing might come down around her and she yelps, gets shushed.

He's concentrating, apparently.

A moment later he appears in the doorway of the fort again and crawls inside. On his back, he slides an arm around her shoulders to haul her in against his chest. She goes easily, draping herself over him and nuzzling her nose against the side of his neck.

"Good fort."

"Thanks." A frisson of pleasure zips through him and she laughs, presses her lips to his throat. It's warm in here, soft furnishings piled up around them and the fire still crackling away opposite the opening in the fort. "Alexis and I have many years of experience."

Her eyes close, and Kate lets herself daydream about a tiny girl with a lick of red hair, hopping around her daddy's ankles as he builds her a fort. As she doses, the little face morphs and suddenly there's a mop of dark curly hair over his forehead, eyes blue and clear as his father's.

It makes her breath stick in her throat and Kate hides her face against Castle's chest, draws a leg up to hook her knee over his. His breathing is slow and easy and she lets it lull her.

"Okay, suggestion," he starts. Kate peels her eyes open and tips her head, sees only the hard strip of his chin from this angle. "We have snacks for dinner in the fort, and then we tell scary stories."


	10. Chapter 10

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

"Okay," Castle says as he crawls his way back inside the fort. He has to go slowly, his arms laden with food, and Kate gets to her knees to help him. "I found crackers, cheese, grapes, a bag of chips, and I warmed up those pigs in a blanket we got."

Kate sets the food down on the comforter floor of their fort and spreads everything out so that she can see the selection. When Castle makes his inelegant way over to her his shoulder smacks against hers and she lets it send her crashing flat to the floor. He looms over her and she smiles, reaches a hand up to push his hair back out of his forehead.

"Thank you for getting food."

"No problem," he says. He props himself up on one elbow to support his weight and Kate lifts up to kiss him.

It's sloppy like this, the crash of her body clumsy against his and he breaks away from her mouth to laugh. He shifts until his body is over hers and he can lean down to kiss her properly, his teeth at her bottom lip and tugging.

There's a crunch, a rustle, and she breaks away from him on a gasp. "You're crushing our dinner."

Rolling off her, Castle lands on his back on the floor at her side and covers his eyes with one arm flung across his face. His lips are smudged and his chest rises and falls dramatically. Kate scoops herself up from the floor and sits cross legged, brings the whole of their dinner haul into her lap. He's brought a knife too and she carves slices of cheese straight from the block, arranges them on top of a cracker.

She gives the first one to him, nudging his shoulder until he sits up, and he smiles around his mouthful. They eat slowly, Kate licking the salt off her fingers after each cracker and trying not to hog all of the pigs in blankets for herself.

"Full up?" he asks when Kate sets aside all of the wrappings. She pops a last grape into her mouth and bursts it between her teeth, chewing slowly to relish the sweet tang of juice.

"Yeah. Still kinda full from lunch."

Castle crawls to the front of their fort with all of the wrappings and sets them out of the way, comes back to brush aside some of the crumbs they've dropped. Satisfied, he props himself against the mountain of cushions in the centre of the fort and crosses his legs at the ankles. His fingers are interlaced, hands resting at his stomach, and Kate comes in close and curls up at his side.

"Did you want to tell spooky stories?" she asks. It makes his whole body snap to attention and he twists to look down at her, his face alive with anticipation. He nods enthusiastically and she laughs, gets to her hands and knees to crawl out of the fort.

It puts her butt in his face and he gooses her, makes her jerk and turn over her shoulder to glare at him. Kate rolls her eyes and leaves the fort, stopping by the fireplace to add another log to the open, hungry mouth. While she's up she figures she might as well get ready for bed before she gets comfortable again, so she pads for the bathroom.

The water from the faucet never quite manages to get warm and she shivers as she washes her face, drops clinging to her lashes and making her eyebrow hairs sit strangely. Once her face is clean of makeup and the day, she brushes her teeth and rinses with mouthwash, pats her lips dry with a hand towel.

She changes into pajamas as quickly as she can, hopping from foot to foot in the freezing bedroom. Kate puts on her thick knit socks as well, hurrying back to the living room to crawl into the fort. It's warm with the heat of the fire and her husband's body and she curls up at his side, tugs a blanket free from the pile to cover her legs.

"Taste like soap," he says when he kisses her forehead. It makes her laugh and she knocks her temple into his chin, hooks an arm at his waist. "I'm gonna go get ready too then. Do you have flashlights."

"They're in the cabinet to the right of the fridge."

She has to let him go and Kate tilts her head to watch in appreciation as he makes his way out of the fort. The sheet that makes up the back wall is thin enough that she can see his shadow and she marvels at the straight slope of his nose, the flop of his bangs.

While he's gone she makes herself comfortable, wriggling around in the pile of blankets and pillows until she's made herself a nest. It's so much warmer in here with the insulation of the fabric walls and the fire crackling opposite, and Kate closes her eyes and hums.

As he makes his way back, Castle flips off every switch in the cabin until only the fireplace is left alight. It plunges the room into deep shadow and when he crawls back into the fort he pulls a grotesque face and cackles an evil laugh.

He passes her a flashlight and Kate shifts to sit cross legged, flicking on her light. They're not too high powered, the bulb golden rather than white LED, and she points the flashlight at the wall of the fort to let it light the space a little more.

Castle's pajama pants ride low on his hips and smooth skin peeks at her as he comes to sit opposite, folding his legs beneath himself. He's such a big man, and normally his bulk lends him an element of grace; to see him folded up like a schoolboy on the rug for story time makes her smile to herself.

Her husband flicks on his flashlight and holds it beneath his chin, reaching out to turn off her own torch. His white, broad face hovers disembodied in the darkness, illuminated from below like a grotesque carnival head, and he begins.

The story is chilling and Kate is held in rapt attention, her eyes on the mechanical animation of her husband's face. He seems to recede inside himself as if he's conducting a seance, the multitudinous voices of the dead speaking through him, and her heart pounds in frantic terror.

By the time he makes it to the climax of the narrative Kate is up on her knees, her hands clasped and pressed to her chest, and adrenaline is a metal taste at the back of her throat. She's been to signings before, heard Castle read to a crowd, but it's never been like this.

"Oh my God," she gasps once he finishes. He shakes his head a little and he blinks, lifts his eyes to her. A lopsided grin tugs at his mouth and she shoves on his shoulder, lets the momentum bring her into his lap. Castle sets the flashlight down, facing away so that it won't blind them both, and he kisses her temple.

"You okay?"

Kate swallows hard and lifts her head to bite at the edge of his jaw in retaliation, a grumbling little noise escaping her. "That was horrifying. Please don't tell that one to our kids, ever."

"I won't," he laughs, a flush of pleasure warming his cheeks. "Your turn."

She takes a moment to think back, try to remember her high school days and the horror that she and her friends used to discuss. Of course, working in homicide now, a lot of the stories don't seem so awful anymore, but she manages to pluck something from the recesses of her brain.

"So there was this guy I knew in college," she starts. Kate slides out of her husband's lap and sits apart from him, her feet beneath her. The flashlight is still on the ground but she leaves it, confident that the story itself is enough to spook Castle. She doesn't need theatrics.

"He used to go camping all the time. Always on his own, and always far away from civilisation."

Already, she can see the tick of tension in Castle's jaw. His throat jumps as he swallows and she pauses, licks her lips as she tries to remember the details. It makes him antsy and he strains forward, gestures at her. "Uh-huh?"

"One time he was camping out on a prairie flat that was surrounded on one side by forest. It was winter and there wasn't another soul around for fifty miles except his giant hound dog that he had. Jake."

"Kate," he says, and he reaches for one of her hands. "Tell me nothing bad is going to happen to the dog."

She ignores him, tugging her hand free from his grip. Her husband is such a gentle soul, so full up with kindness, and she would never tell him anything that'll upset him. She's just looking to freak him out the way he did her.

"It was a cold night, well below freezing, so my friend had a roaring fire going. Jake the dog was wandering back and forth, going to explore and then getting cold and coming back for warmth and attention. He had a bell around his collar so my friend could know where he is."

"I really want a dog," Castle mutters. Kate narrows her eyes, shoots him a look that silences him, and he folds his hands neatly together.

Kate sifts a hand through her hair and pushes it back behind her ear, shifting to sit more comfortably. Thinking of the story is freaking her out and she battles the urge to check over her shoulder, focuses instead on Castle's expectant face turned towards hers.

"So, my buddy was just hanging out, drinking beer and listening to music. He wasn't really paying attention to the dog. It was pitch black other than the stars, like it is here when we turn the cabin lights off."

She's so glad that they went outside last night, glad that Castle has a point of reference for the terrifying, isolating darkness she's talking about. He nods slowly, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he waits for her to continue.

"After about twenty minutes, he hadn't seen Jake. He started calling him but there was no response. He turned off his music and called louder. Nothing for about five minutes." She pauses and darts a glance around the soft closeness of their fort, half expecting to see some hulking shadow against the back wall. "Then he heard his bell. It was behind him, which was weird because the tree line was in front of him and that's where Jake had been sniffing around earlier."

"Oh God," Castle mutters. His face is pale, his pupils blown even in the muted glow of the flashlight, and for a moment she thinks he might topple into her.

By now, Kate has gotten pretty good at gauging Castle's level of horror, and she decides that he's okay. This clammy-palmed, cold hand up his spine feeling is exactly what she's shooting for. "My buddy relaxed, thinking that Jake was nearby, and he focused on chopping some more wood. He could faintly hear the bell behind him still, sometimes closer and then further again. He just figured Jake was doing a hound dog's job and smelling all around."

Castle nods, as if he's familiar with dogs and their various personalities, and she supposes he most likely is. According to Alexis, after Castle took care of Royal for a little while he had tried to convince his daughter that they should get a dog, spent the week researching the most suitable breed before she could talk him out of it.

"After about forty minutes, my buddy hadn't heard his bell or seen him. So he started calling him again, and he got up to walk towards the tree line. It was this big, dark forest of ponderosa pine looming in front of him."

She's no writer, and telling a story like this to Castle makes her feel a little sick with anxiety, but he seems completely absorbed in her narrative. Being showy and elaborate in her words is never going to go well, so Kate figures that maintaining the brevity of the story is going to work in her favour.

"He was shining his flashlight around into the trees, but there was nothing. No sound, not a glimpse of Jake the dog. He was starting to get freaked out by then."

"So am I," Castle mutters, scratching behind his ear.

It's adorable, but she doesn't crack a smile, careful not to spoil things before she gets to the end of the story. "He heard some crunches in the woods, like sticks breaking. He didn't know where his dog had gone, so he headed back to the fire because that was where his shotgun was."

Castle winces at that, one side of his face tugging up. He's confident around guns, comfortable, but she knows he gets nervous when they crop up in stories.

"He got back to the fire and to his truck, and then he heard absolutely panicked barking from directly in front of him. From the tree line. Jake the dog was tearing across the prairie at full tilt. Have you ever heard a dog's panic bark, Rick?"

"No," he whispers.

"It sounds very different from a yip or a normal bark. It's horrible to hear. Jake ran behind my friend and cowered underneath the truck."

Castle's breath is coming in these shallow little gasps now, his mouth open, and his huge unblinking eyes are fixed on her face.

"When my buddy got Jake to come back out from beneath the truck, he saw that the bell was missing. He still had his collar on, and the bell had been clipped to it with a carabiner, but it was gone."

For a second she thinks Castle might actually topple over under the weight of his terror. Outside the cabin the wind is picking up and a branch smacks hard against the kitchen window; they both jump, and Castle squeaks out a terrified noise.

"He put them both in the cab of his truck and they stayed there for the rest of the night. He still has no idea who or what was wearing that bell behind him for a few hours on a rural prairie flat in the depth of winter."

"Oh my God, Kate."

She manages to hold the serious pinch to her face for a couple of seconds, and then she breaks. Dissolving into giggles, she hides her face in the cup of her palms. It makes him scowl and Kate knee-walks over to him and captures his head in her hands.

Her kiss is clumsy, teeth clacking against his, but his fingers come to clutch at her back. Tight, and she hopes his grip doesn't leave five purple smudges in her skin. He's afraid, she can feel it humming over the surface of his skin like a static charge, but she feels strangely calm.

Being with her partner makes her feel safe. They've faced worse than an unknown creature in the woods, and Kate tangles her fingers with his and climbs half into his lap. "You're okay, baby. You're safe."

"Don't patronise me," he grumbles. His arms come around her though, thick fingers at the back of her neck and working their way into her hair. He massages at the base of her skull and Kate goes limp, sagging against the broad wall of his chest.

"Did I scare you?"

He makes a pitiful little noise and hides his face against the crook of her neck. The terror is mostly for show though; his heart rate is normal beneath the back of her shoulder and his breathing comes easily against her collar bone.

"That was a great story, Beckett. Is it true?"

"He told it to us that way," she says. Kate twists around to see him, curling her fingers at his ear, and she shrugs a little. "I'm not sure how true it really is. But creepy right?"

He chokes on a ragged laugh and leans in close until his forehead meets hers. "Yes, Kate. Creepy."

They settle down a little then, snuggling into the nest of pillows and blanket that they made. The wind calls out an anguished cry outside the cabin and Kate rests her head at her husband's chest, thinking of the bear. It's comforting, to be tucked up warm with the person she loves while the world outside whips into a frenzy.

"Hey," Castle says, and it rouses her a little. She's so comfortable pillowed against his chest that she can only manage to flutter her hand against his chest in acknowledgement. "I love you."

"Mm, love you, too," she murmurs back.

There's a blanket all bunched up at their feet and Castle hooks his toes in it to haul it up their bodies, tucking it in close around Kate's side. Her lips form a lazy kiss against his chest and she wiggles her toes in their socks against the top of his foot.

"Maybe you should have brought your gun."

Laughter brings her out of her drowsiness and she shifts upwards until she's face to face with him on the pillow, their noses almost brushing. Tipping her chin, she manages to brush a kiss to his mouth and he smiles, splays a hand at the back of her head.

"Nothing's going to come out of the woods," she says, her grin bubbling in her words. "But even if it did, I'm pretty good without my gun you know."

"Oh I know."

They've sparred before, after hours in the precinct. Kate needs somebody to steady the bag for her, somebody to aim at. Even though Castle doesn't have the same training as her, his fitness level is pretty high and he's more than able to keep up.

And oh, after their sessions, when he crowds her in the shower stall-

Well. A couple of times a month these days, she shoots him a text and he shows up with his gym bag slung over his shoulder, sneakers already on his feet.

"You sleepy, sweetheart?" he mumbles against the crown of her head.

"Yeah," she slurs. "Wake me if a monster comes."

* * *

Kate wakes up in the night and her body is stiff. For a long while she lays where she is and listens to the disgruntled chorus of her bones. She's curled on her side and her hip is a point of cold contact against the floor, the chill spreading out across her skin and sinking into the meat of her.

When she eventually manages to crack an eye open, she peers towards the fireplace. The fire is little more than embers now and she gets slowly to her knees and crawls towards the entrance to the fort. Castle is asleep on his stomach, half of his face mashed against the pillow and a little bubble of drool at the corner of his mouth, and he doesn't stir as she moves past him.

The air is still and cold outside of their makeshift shelter and Kate pokes at the fire, hoping to encourage the embers into lighting. Her prodding only serves to separate out the points of heat and they slowly blink out one after the other.

She gives up and gets slowly to her feet, pads through to their bedroom to steal one of Castle's sweaters from the dresser. Her phone is on the nightstand, finished charging, and she unplugs it. The cell phone's display is bright and Kate closes one eye, the other slitted open just enough to see the time. It's a little past three in the morning. Too early, even for her.

It's the cold that's woken her and she curls her fingers into fists, stretches them out again. Her limbs are stiff, her entire body moving jerky as a marionette as she makes her slow way back to the fort and crawls inside.

The movement stirs her husband and he grunts, scrubs his face against the pillow. "Mm. Kate?"

"I'm okay," she whispers. Kate sifts her fingers through his hair, but the cold shock of her touch makes him jerk and his eyes fly open. "Go back to sleep."

"You're shivering."

"Cold woke me up," she admits. She lays back down on the floor of the fort and tucks herself in close against Castle's side. One clumsy arm topples to lay over her back and he hauls her in until the entire length of her body is pressed against his.

There's a blanket on his other side and he fumbles for it, drapes it half over her. It helps a little, but her body hurts; the bruising at the base of her spine is a bright flare of pain and she bows her head to the pillow, wants to weep.

The scope of Castle's awareness extends to include her and he lifts up on one elbow, his warm palm coming to the back of her neck. "Sweetheart. You're freezing. Come on, let's go back to bed."

"Gotta dismantle the fort," she groans. The hardwood is so cold that it seeps through the blankets and her clothes, and her entire front erupts in gooseflesh.

Her body rattles and Castle makes a desperate noise, hooking a hand over her shoulder to bring her upright. He's clumsy and only half awake, but she lets him bring her into his lap and she curls up small. Everywhere he touches is warmth and she closes her eyes, lays her cheek to his chest.

"I don't think we do. Comforter is underneath and the pillows are scattered about."

Castle wanted to spend the night in the fort like kids and her heart twists with guilt. Lifting her head, she rests a palm at his cheek and she kisses him, fusty middle of the night breath and all. He must taste her sadness because his fingers card through her hair and he rocks her a little.

"You go on into bed and turn the heater on. I"m right behind you."

She goes, sweater paws tucked up against her chest. The cold air creeps inside the collar of Castle's sweater and she hunkers down, tucks her chin into the neckline. Inside their bedroom, Kate turns the space heater on and cranks it up as high as it can go, moving to kneel in the middle of the bare mattress.

Her eyes feel gritty and she swipes at them, her jaw snapping taut as she yawns. Castle appears after a moment, just barely able to see where he's going from over the mountain of comforter and pillows in his arms. He dumps everything to the mattress and they work to get it all straightened out.

Kate takes charge of the pillows and piles them against the headboard, tries to stay out of the way as Castle stands at the foot of the bed and snaps his wrists to let the comforter billow out and land flat to the mattress. Once he's done he comes around and climbs in to bed on her other side, wraps both arms around her.

Shivers still rattle through her, but already warmth is creeping into her extremities and she lays her head on the pillow, her nose brushing Castle's. "Sorry we couldn't sleep in the fort."

"Don't be silly," he grunts. One hand is resting in the curve of her waist and his thumb strokes, flirting with the curve of her breast. There's no motivation behind it, no seduction, only her husband's sleepy need to be close to her. "Don't want you lying awake and freezing."

Kate presses her nose to the side of his neck to warm the cold tip and he hisses through his teeth but says nothing. His kindness and the late hour make her feel a little weepy and she hides her face, pushes a knee between Castle's thighs.

Most nights she can't sleep all tangled with him like this, has to roll over. Sometimes he'll drape himself over her back, but more often they sleep facing away from each other and she gets to turn over each morning and open her eyes to his slack, smooth face.

She never really came awake at all though, the cold shutting down all but the most baser parts of her brain, and Kate finds that the shores of unconsciousness are lapping at her already. She snuggles in a little closer to Castle, tucking herself underneath his chin, and sleep closes over the top of her head.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm not very adept at telling scary stories. The story that Kate tells Castle is not mine, and can be found on the sixpenceee tumblr here: [slash] post [slash] 131454354459


	11. Chapter 11

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

The bed is empty when Castle wakes up, but when he rolls over into Kate's side the sheets are warm and smelling like her. He stretches, spreading his toes until the tension pops out of them, and he scrubs his face into the pillow. Sleep is a shadowed presence beside the bed, waiting for him to slip back under, but this morning he turns his face away.

Outside of bed he's glad for the heater and he shrugs a sweater over his head. Not the one he wants; Kate must have snagged it for herself, thumbing silently through the drawer. He finds his slippers and tugs them on, toppling sideways in his morning incoordination and smacking his elbow against the top of the dresser.

It makes him yelp, and through the open bedroom door he hears a laugh from the kitchen. Rubbing his elbow, Castle makes his way through to the living space of the cabin in search of his wife and he pouts at her, twists his arm to show her the redness at the joint of his arm.

"That hurt."

"Morning," she says. Stepping in close, Kate winds her arms around his neck and kisses him hello. The dart of her tongue against his bottom lip shocks him right into awareness and he clutches at her hips, rocking his pelvis against hers.

Kate moans and breaks away from his mouth, her thumb resting just at the corner of his eye. She's a little rumpled this morning, hair sitting awkwardly and falling down over her eye. Her smile wipes all of it clean, makes her radiant and perfect, and she steps away from him to head back towards the coffee machine.

It's gurgling, but it hasn't started to percolate yet, and he scrapes a hand over his face. "You just get up?"

"Yeah." Kate sets out two mugs and collects the creamer and the sugar, leaves everything on the countertop. "Early for you, babe."

He shrugs, rolling his shoulders to wake up a little more, and he moves around to sit at the kitchen counter. It takes him a while to wade through the fog of sleep in the mornings and he's never very chatty. Kate potters around the kitchen as she fixes their coffee, singing to herself, and by the time she comes to sit beside him with their two mugs his words are back.

"We went to sleep pretty early. Even if we did wake up in the middle of the night."

"Right," she laughs. Kate sets his mug down in front of him and cradles her own against her chest. "Sorry I woke you. And ruined our fort plans."

Castle curls his hands at the bottom of his barstool and shunts closer to Kate, wraps his arm around her back. She lays her cheek to his shoulder and he kisses the crown of her head, smells the grease and Kate of her hair.

"Didn't ruin a thing. We still got to tell our creepy stories, and I still got to fall asleep in there with you."

He's happy this morning; happy to have Kate here with him, and happy that they're about to enter a new year as husband and wife. This day always has excitement bubbling in his belly and he keeps his arm tight around Kate as they sip at their coffee.

The first peach of dawn is just beginning to streak across the sky outside the window, grey giving way to brazen morning light. Kate finishes her drink before he does and she untangles herself from beneath his arm and slides down from her stool.

"I need to wash my hair. I feel gross."

"Sure," he says easily. Kate dusts a kiss to his cheek on her way to the bathroom, and he hears the lovely lilt of her singing as she undresses and turns on the water.

He stays where he is at the counter and listens to the thunder of the shower and the swell of Kate's voice as she belts out whatever song she has trapped in her head at the moment. By the time he's finished his coffee the shower has shut off again, and he rinses their mugs in the sink, leaves them on the side to wash later.

In the bedroom Kate is bent over as she dries her hair, wearing only her underwear. Castle skims his hands up the length of her back and she jerks, straightening up and whipping around to see him. Her mouth is open as if to scold him and he kisses her before she gets the chance.

The dryer is hanging down beside them, still on, and its hot breath starts to burn his thigh through his pajama pants. He has to step to the side and break away from their kiss, touches his fingers to her elbow so that she'll carry on drying her hair.

Castle moves for the bathroom and strips out of his clothes, dumps his pajamas on top of Kate's on the tile floor. He twists on the shower taps and steps into the stall, the spray lashing against the backs of his shoulders. Kate was fast, so there should be plenty of hot water, but he hurries through washing himself.

Once he's done he steps out and wraps a towel around his waist, comes to stand beside Kate at the counter. She's smoothing moisturiser into her skin and he kisses the curve of her shoulder, tastes her soap there. "Feel better?"

"Yep."

He leaves her there to finish up her routine, heading back into the bedroom. Castle picks out clothes and sets them in the chair in the corner, straightens the comforter and the pillows until the bed looks perfect and inviting again.

The stubble across his jaw is getting out of hand now, makes him look bedraggled, and he goes back to the bathroom to shave. He half expects Kate to leave him there, go and get dressed, but she stays with a hip propped against the edge of the counter to watch him.

She smiles as he contorts his face to get the right angle, find a smooth edge, and when he's done she swipes a little of the shaving cream from the underside of his jaw and wipes it off on his towel. "Missed a spot."

"Thanks," he grins, smoothing a hand over his jaw. Kate steps in close and kisses his newly soft skin, a palm flat against his bare chest. Her thumb strokes over his nipple and he grits his teeth, hips rocking. She stretches up to kiss him and he hooks a hand at her thigh, fingers digging into the meat of her leg as he lifts until her knee is at his hip.

He's only wearing a towel and Kate smirks, a hand snaking down to wrap around him. Backing her up against the counter, he opens his mouth against her neck and laps at the few droplets taking shelter against her collar bone.

"I know we just showered, but. . ." he trails off, and she laughs. Kate gives a little hop and lifts up to sit on the counter, hooking her legs around his waist. Her heels dig into the back of his thighs and she draws him in close, her mouth open and seeking.

He slicks his tongue inside and unfastens the towel underneath her arms, tugging it carefully out from beneath her butt, and all the time kissing her. Kate removes his towel with her toes and lets it drop, and then they're both naked and gasping and rocking together.

* * *

"I had an idea," Kate says, draped on top of him in their bed. After the counter, they stumbled through to the bedroom for another round on top of the mattress and he's worn out now, his arm a dead weight trapped beneath his wife.

He manages to rouse himself into consciousness enough to process what she's saying, his fingertips stroking along the tops of her shoulders and circling patterns against the back of her neck. "What's your idea? Because I might need a little recovery time before-"

"Not that," she laughs. "There are those Christmas lights in the garage. You remember I strung them through the railings on the deck when we had Tilly over for dinner?"

"I remember."

"Well I was thinking we could put them somewhere. It's New Year's Eve, and I know the cabin isn't decorated but it might be nice to have something a little bit festive."

His grin stretches so wide, his face aching with it, and he kisses the top of his wife's head. Beautiful Kate with her happy mouth tilted up to him and her bubbling joy. "That sounds great. Perfect. But I do need to lay here for a bit."

"Oh me too," she groans. Kate tips off of his chest and curls up on the mattress beside him, wrapping both of her arms around one of his. Her lips form a kiss against his bicep, her nose nuzzling at the inside of his arm, and her legs curl until her knees bump against his thigh.

The sheets are half over them, and gooseflesh prickles along the length of his arms and his thighs as the sweat dries on his skin. They were enthusiastic; they didn't have sex at all yesterday, busy skating and visiting friends for lunch. And worn out, from the three times the day before that when they got to the cabin. He didn't realise quite how fiercely he's been wanting her until she was surging against him, all naked skin and warm, wet tongue.

After a while the strength comes back into his muscles and he manages to sit up, get out of bed entirely. The clothes he looked out are still folded neatly on top of the dresser and he pulls them on, fastens the buttons of his plaid shirt.

Kate is sitting against the headboard to watch him, the sheets pulled half up around her waist and her hair spilling out across her shoulders. When he catches her eye he grins and wiggles his hips and she sighs at him, shaking her head.

She climbs out of bed and begins to get dressed, pulling on yoga pants and a black tank top. He watches unashamedly, sitting at the end of the bed as Kate rifles through the drawers of the dresser. She pulls free an oversized, chunky knit sweater in a warm taupe and shrugs it over her head.

It drowns her a little, but she somehow manages to be both utterly sexy and completely adorable. He stands up and moves to wrap his arms tight around her. She snuggles against him immediately, tucking her hands into the back pockets of his jeans, and he lets his lips skim the top of her head.

"I need to make the bed again," he says. It makes her laugh and she tugs out of their hug to grin up at him, pats his chest. A little patronising, but he hardly minds.

Castle busies himself with straightening the comforter again, arranging the pillows. His wife's eyes are hot on his back - lower, really - as he moves, and he bends over a little more than he normally might, gives her a show. When he's done she comes to him and lifts up on tiptoe in her bare feet, an arm around his neck for balance as she kisses him.

He's loose with satisfaction still and he opens right up to the inquisitive press of her tongue, lets her slick past the seam of his lips. It's the last day of this year, and even if this was the year he married her, it was also the year that he went missing, the year their dream wedding crumbled.

A new year means a chance to build on this life he and Kate have together, to make it more. Even if he's not allowed back to the precinct, he's confident that next year is going to be good to them.

Once their bedroom looks a little less like a tornado of lust has ripped through it, and he's hung up the towels in the bathroom so that they can dry, he follows Kate through to the garage where the box of Christmas lights is stored on a shelf.

When he was in here to collect logs for his fire he didn't really look around, and now he turns slowly, astounded by the order of the storage. "Wow. I see you get your neatness from your dad."

"Yeah," she laughs, reaching out to straighten a box on one of the shelves. "He's pretty pedantic about all this stuff."

Kate has both arms wrapped around the box of lights and she bumps her shoulder into his to get him moving, herds him back towards the house. At the kitchen island she sets the box down, and he snags her hands in his before she can open it.

"Breakfast first. It's important, Beckett."

"Right."

Lifting both of her hands to his lips, he presses a kiss to the very tip of each of her fingers. Just before Christmas, Alexis and his mother dragged Kate to the beauty salon and they all got festive manicures. Hers is decidedly more understated than either his mother's or his daughter's, four of her nails painted a simple red. The ring finger of each hand has a little Rudolph painted at the end of the nail on a white background, and it makes him grin all over again to see it.

"What are you hungry for?" he asks as he tugs open the refrigerator. "I'm thinking we do a fancy breakfast tomorrow, for New Year's Day, but I can do something special today too."

"Cereal is fine," she laughs. Kate reaches around him to grab the cartoon of milk from the refrigerator door, setting it down on the counter as she collects a bowl and a spoon, and her box of cereal.

At the grocery store she let him get a box of cinnamon toast crunch just for himself, picked out her own boring box of Special K. She pours herself a bowl and adds a handful of the mixed berries they picked up, stirring it around.

He tries, he really does, but he can feel his nose wrinkling and he has to turn away, concentrate on pouring himself a bowl of deliciousness. They sit side by side at the kitchen island as they munch their cereal, chattering aimlessly.

Castle swings his legs, tapping his feet against the bar at the bottom of the stool in an almost-rhythm, but Kate doesn't seem to mind a bit. She eats with one hand, and the other she curls over his knee and tucks her thumb into the seam of his leg.

"I'll wash up," she offers when they've finished eating. "You've done it every time since we got here. My turn."

There's a miniature silver bathtub on the windowsill above the sink and he's been wondering this whole time whether it has a use or is just a decoration. He stays at Kate's side and watches as she slips off both of her rings and sets them in the dish to stay safe while she cleans their dishes.

"That's what that's for."

"Yeah," she says. Kate turns over her shoulder to see him and she smiles, has to look back at the sink as it fills with warm water. "It was my mom's. She was always afraid of losing her rings, so my dad got it for her."

Castle darts a kiss to her cheek and steps away, knows she hates when he just stands there uselessly. He busies himself darting into their bedroom and rummaging in the drawer of the nightstand until he finds his travel speakers. He has the huge dock in the loft, but his daughter got him this tiny portable pod for Christmas and he's delighted to take his music everywhere.

Back in the kitchen he sets it up on the counter, plugs his phone into the attached cord and starts up a playlist. The music makes Kate startle, up to her elbows in sudsy water at the sink, but she relaxes into the rhythm almost immediately and she sways her hips, humming the tune.

The day after Christmas, his wife put a ban on all of the festive songs that he's been playing to death since Thanksgiving, so this playlist is just upbeat, fun songs they can sing and dance to. Not a snowflake or a sleigh bell in sight.

By now Kate has worked her way through several of the dishes and he grabs a clean dishcloth from the drawer and starts drying them and putting them away in their proper places. He loves this, domesticity with his wife, and when she catches him grinning she comes in to kiss the corner of his mouth.

Once all of the breakfast things are cleaned up and put away Kate unboxes the lights and carefully unwinds the strand, glancing around the room. "I don't know where to put them. No tree."

"Along the fireplace?"

"Won't they melt?" she says. Those twin lines of frustration appear between her brows and she steps towards the fireplace, tilts her head. "You know what, they'll be fine. Screw it. There's nowhere else."

He laughs and steps up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and propping his chin at her shoulder. "That's the spirit. Any idea how to attach them?"

"Tape?" she suggests, twisting around to look at him.

Castle shrugs, not entirely sure how to help. At the loft they have pre-fixed hooks and brackets and he's careful to put the lights away just so; each year it only takes him ten minutes or so to get all of the lights fixed in their usual spots. He has no clue how to do it the makeshift way.

Kate comes back with a roll of tape she's found in a drawer in the kitchen and she catches her lip between her teeth, takes a moment to assess the situation. "Maybe if you hold it up and I can tape it all down?"

"Sure."

His arms are long enough that he can reach almost the entire length of the mantel and he follows Kate's directions until she's happy with the position of the lights, stays very still as she tapes them down. Once she's done she flips them on at the outlet and they both step back to admire their work.

"They look gorgeous," he says, reaching for Kate's hand. She steps in close and lays her head against his bicep; he feels the bloom of her smile against his arm.

This year Beckett added a few of her decorations to their tree, had shared the story of each one with Rick and his mother and daughter. Given them all that timid smile, like she was afraid they'd think her foolish. Instead they'd been captured in rapt attention.

Alexis had sat on the floor at Kate's feet as she spoke from the armchair, Martha in the opposite seat and straining forward to catch Beckett's every word. And Castle had been on the couch in humbled and silent awe of his wife, this amazingly brave creature he's married.

"Maybe we should do understated next Christmas at the loft."

"When have you ever been understated?" she laughs, lifting her head to look at him. "No, Rick. The Castles do Christmas big and showy, and I'm one of you now. I'm- I think I need that."

He nods, draws her in for another kiss. Her feet nudge their way between his and he cries out, takes a stumbling step away from her. "You're freezing. Go put socks on, and I'll get the fire going."

Kate laughs at him, shaking her head as she moves for the bedroom. He sinks to his knees in front of the fireplace and goes through the motions of laying the fire, careful to do it exactly as Kate taught him.

When the paper catches alight he pumps a fist in the air and gives a little shout of victory, and soft fingers against the back of his neck startle him. "You were watching?"

"Yeah." Kate sinks to sit in front of the fire beside him, knees drawn up and her arms wrapped around them. "You did great, babe. I'm proud of you."

Twin spots of heat flood his cheeks and he hides a smile against his own shoulder, feeling goofy and boyish. They sit together as the flames work their way through the mouth of the fireplace, and he adds a log to burn and warm the cabin.

"Do you think it's safe to go for our walk now?"

"Should be," she nods.

He's been thinking about the bear a lot, especially last night when the wind howled like a ragged beast outside the windows, and Rick hopes that he's safe. There's a kinship there, since Kate drew the comparison into being, and he half hopes that they'll catch a glimpse just so they know that the bear is alright.

They're in no hurry to get going and Castle shifts until he can lean against the edge of the armchair, his bare feet stretched out towards the fire. Kate comes to lean against him, her body warm and heavy where she drapes herself against his chest.

He draws aimless patterns on the back of her hand where it rests at his thigh, tracing the length of each of her slender fingers. Her skin is warm and smooth and she smells so good that for a moment he's overcome with gratitude, wants to go to his knees in awe.

After a minute it passes, and he's just his regular in love with Beckett self. Still there, an ever-present thing in his stomach and chest and throat, but he no longer feels like he wants to cry with it. She's oblivious, or pretending to be, and she rests her head against his shoulder.

"Do we have plans for this evening?"

"I don't think so," she says.

Castle's phone is turned on, because he's a dad and he always needs to be reachable, but Kate switched hers off earlier and tucked it away in the drawer of her nightstand. He kind of likes it being like this, just the two of them out in the woods without the world peering in at them.

He slides his hand into hers and laces their fingers together, their palms clasped. "We don't have a TV to watch the ball drop. Won't it be kind of anticlimactic?"

"Not if you kiss me properly," she teases and he growls, darts in to push his mouth to hers. His kiss is aggressive, tongue and teeth, and he tugs on her hip until she climbs into his lap. Kate gives it right back to him, fingers sifting through his hair and her tongue quick and hot through his mouth.

It makes him gasp, makes him shudder, and he clings to her with both hands at her waist as she rocks over him. When he breaks away from her mouth she sucks at the spot beneath his jaw and he has to tug her away from him entirely.

"Kate, God, I can't. Not after the bathroom earlier. Isn't your back still sore?"

"Yes," she admits. She shifts awkwardly where she's straddling his thighs, one hand snaking around to rub at the base of her spine. "Helps when you're distracting me."

Castle splays a wide palm over the spot where he knows the bruising to be, hopes that the heat of his skin will help soothe her a little.

"We're taking it easy today," he decides, and Kate raises an eyebrow at him. "Starting now. Rest of today."

She laughs, but she leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth and she moves down, her lips at the jut of his chin now. After a moment, Kate climbs out of his lap and moves to the couch, flutters her fingers at him so that he'll join her.

He goes, settling himself comfortably against the arm, and Kate worms her way in between his legs and leans back against his chest, her body so slender all pressed up against him like this. "Wanna doze for a little while? Listen to the music."

"Yeah," she yawns. "Don't let me fall asleep. I want to go for our walk, I really do. Just need to rest for a while."

Castle brushes the hair back out of her face so that he can kiss her forehead and he bands an arm around her waist, nudges them both down the couch a little more. "Rest as long as you need, Kate."


	12. Chapter 12

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

They doze on the couch for a long while. Castle's neck is at an awkward angle, his head propped half against the arm of the sofa, but Kate is warm and tucked in close and he can't quite bring himself to mind. She's in between his body and the back of the couch, her face half hidden against his ribs, and he has to keep checking to see if she's awake or not.

Every time he shifts her eyes pop open and she tilts her head up to look at him, manages a smile. Her breathing is that slow, measured drag through her chest that he's gotten so used to. Sometimes if his characters are clamouring too loudly to let him sleep, he'll smuggle his laptop into bed and write propped up against the headboard.

It makes Kate roll towards him, her mouth open at his thigh, and when she comes awake she always says that the tap-tap of his fingers over the keys made her dream of the rain. He knows what his wife is like when she sleeps, knows the little snorts every so often and the kick of her feet, so he's confident she's still with him.

"Are you sure you want to walk?" he says after a while. Kate is stiff even snuggled up to him and resting on the couch, and he's not convinced that pulling on her hiking boots and picking through the underbrush is what she really needs today.

The suggestion seems to rouse her and Kate lifts herself up, propping her weight on an elbow. She yawns, hiding her mouth behind the back of her hand, and he darts in close to steal a kiss from the very corner of her lips.

"I need to use the muscles or they'll only seize up. It's really not that bad."

Castle tugs on her shoulder until she lays down, draped over him chest to chest this time. For a moment he's distracted by the soft curves of her breasts and he strokes his hands up and down the length of her back, his lips at her hairline and nuzzling.

There was a point, somewhere, and he hooks his fingers in the bottom of her tank top. Nudging it up, and her sweater too when he reaches that, he exposes her skin. The purpling hematoma that blossoms at the base of Kate's spine makes him hiss a breath.

He lays his palm very gently against her back and she shivers beneath his touch, turning her head to rest her cheek against his chest. With his free hand he traces the slope of his wife's nose, the plump bow of her lips, and he leaves his hand at the back of her head.

"It looks really sore, Beckett. Do you want some painkillers?"

"I don't need them," she assures him.

Castle has spent quality time with Kate's father over the last couple of years, and Jim has told him all about how stubborn Beckett is. How fiercely she hates to be in need, to let anyone know that she's suffering. The summer she was shot, Jim had to sneak her pain pills into her food because she was too proud to admit she needed to take them.

"You sure? No shame in it, Beckett."

"You remember our first time?" she asks. Her voice is muffled against his chest, but she lifts up to see him again and pulls her shirt back into place so that the cold air can't touch its fingers to her bare skin. "I was bruised a whole lot worse than this then. And we were. . .acrobatic."

He stares into the middle distance for a while, remembering the press and roll of Kate's body, under and then over his. How insistent she had been, her mouth open and seeking. She had finally turned her face towards the sun and bloomed into being, stretched up from where she had been hunkered down close to the earth like a green shoot.

"Yeah, and remember the next night?" he grumbles. "I saw you naked again, in the light this time, and I was horrified that you let me do the things I did when you were hurt so badly."

She laughs and comes in to steal a kiss from him, one hand at his cheek as if she thinks he might tug away. "I was grateful for it. I'm not some fragile wisp, Castle. I can handle it."

"I know you can," he says. Castle fists a hand in her hair and digs his knuckle against the base of her skull, hauling her in close. His kiss is aggressive and biting, his free hand kneading at the flesh of her ass, and Kate pants and rocks her hips against his thigh.

After a moment she breaks away from his mouth and sits up on the couch, tucking her knees underneath herself and staring down at him. He feels a little beached, lust rolling through him, and he can only stare up at her and measure his ragged breaths.

"Let's go for our walk," Kate says. She climbs off the couch and he stays right where he is, has to wait for the urgency of need to drain out of him before he attempts to move. From his vantage point on the couch he can see her as she moves around the room, and she comes to sink into the armchair opposite and tug on her hiking boots.

He found some thick socks in a cute little boutique and they'd been labelled as cabin socks, so of course he had picked them up and tucked them inside Kate's stocking. They're fluffy on the inside but the outer layer is knitted, the pattern mostly cream but with mosaic-style diamonds in navy and yellow and pale blue, the heels and toes blocked in maroon.

Kate extends her legs to show him the soles of her feet, wiggling her toes, and he grins and gives her a double thumbs up. She pushes her feet into the sturdy grip of her hiking boots and pulls her laces tight, fastens them.

"I don't know if I have a coat that'll go over this sweater."

"You could add another layer underneath?" he suggests. Watching her put her socks on and tap her heels together like a little girl has sucked the lust clean out of him and now he's only eager for their walk. Castle gets up from the couch and hurries through putting his sneakers on and hunkering down into his jacket.

His wife is a merry spirit at the corner of his eye as they move around the cabin. In the bedroom she takes off her sweater and pulls on a long sleeved shirt before she tugs the sweater back over her head. She wraps herself up in a scarf and a knitted hat, huffing a breath to blow the baby hairs out of her eyes, and she reaches for his hand.

Their clasped palms swing between their bodies as they head for the front door and step outside. The shock of the cold makes him gasp and he clutches tighter at Kate's fingers, tucking his chin down closer inside his scarf. A metallic taste bubbles in the back of his throat and he swallows, hurrying down the porch steps to warm his muscles.

"I think it's gonna snow today," Kate says. He's trying to get going so that the exertion warms them up, but he gets pulled short by his wife's grip on the end of his arm. When he turns back to see her she has her face tipped skyward, her eyes wide and a grin splitting the seam of her mouth. "Look at the clouds."

Castle glances upwards at the sky, the clouds with their grey, snow-swollen bellies. He squeezes Kate's fingers and turns a smile towards her, steps in close to kiss the sliver of skin at her neck that peeks out above her scarf.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?" he sings, his voice rumbly. "Come on let's go and play."

"Cute," Kate snorts. He half-hopes she'll sing back to him. They've seen the movie a few times, at first just because he was curious about the hype and he roped Beckett into watching with him. And then he'd gotten the songs stuck in his head and he'd had to persuade Kate to watch for a second time.

The third was part of a Disney princess marathon they did when he insisted that they needed to figure out which of the princesses Kate is most like. They'd settled on Belle, because of her love of books and because his wife had creased with laughter at the comparison between Castle and the beast. He's still working on convincing her that they should make it work as a couple's costume for Halloween.

Sometimes now in the car or the shower they sing together from the Disney album he downloaded to his phone. He loves the duets the most, loves to make his voice as smooth and charming as he can manage while Kate bats her eyes at him and hits each note perfectly. They're dorks together, giggling and smacking their shoulders against the tile, and he's so grateful that he has finally found the person he can be a goof with.

Kate knocks her temple against his and huffs a laugh, starts them walking again. They're still on the driveway and the woods are a line of felt and bowed branches in front of them. He suddenly remembers her story from last night and he swallows, darts a glance behind them.

"Come on babe," she tugs on his arm. Kate's fearlessness bolsters his own courage and he keeps up with her, trotting along at her side with his tail wagging. As they make their way along the trail through the woods he swings their hands between them, on high alert for a glimpse of the bear.

It's colder in the shade of the trees, the evergreen firs tall and regal. Their prickly tops brush against the snow-whip of the sky, squirrels darting from branch to branch. Beneath their feet the ground is hard as if tensed in anticipation of the snowfall. It makes him stomp like a kid, his breath a cloud in front of his face.

"Can we go and find that tree chair?" Kate pipes up beside him. When he turns a glance towards her she's smiling, her face a pale slash in the mess of dark hair and grey hat, and he darts in to kiss the pink tip of her nose.

She's eager and girlish, excitement thrumming through her system, and he has to wrap both arms around her and squeeze. Her feet come off the ground and she squeaks, hiding her face against the crease of his neck.

"Yes, Kate. Let's find your tree chair. Your nine year old self was so humbled."

His teasing makes her pout and he leans in to catch the grumpy swell of her bottom lip between his teeth, tugging just a little. Kate leans against his chest, a hand at the back of his neck. He never wears hats, because his head is so giant that he looks ridiculous in most of them, and he's glad for the warmth of Kate's gloved fingers at the base of his skull.

Her breath comes in hot little puffs against his cheek and he smiles, has to tug out of their kiss. For a moment he rests his forehead against hers and skims the backs of his fingers over her hair, joy making him feel a little desperate.

"Hey," she says, lifting her woollen fingers to his cheeks. Castle bows his head to hers and closes his eyes, sliding his hands underneath her sweater to her waist. "What's wrong baby?"

"Nothing," he manages. "Just- love you, Kate. Glad to be here. Your husband."

Her whole face softens and she winds both arms around his neck, lifting up until her thighs press against his. Kate's lips come to his cheek, nuzzling a little, and she makes a strangled noise of sympathy. "Oh sweetheart. Come on. You look so upset."

"I'm overwhelmed," he says. He manages a laugh and Kate steps back, rests her gloved hands against his chest. "And smitten."

"All of the hurt is over," she says firmly. Kate gives a little nudge to his chest as if to push him into believing her. "We made it here, married and together and safe. No reason to be sad anymore."

It takes him a second, but he shakes his way out of it and manages a nod for her, a little smile even. Kate watches him, head tilted, but she seems convinced that he's okay and she takes his hand again, carries on walking.

He has to concentrate on where he's going, the detritus of the forest scattered over the pathway and just waiting for him to stumble. It keeps his neck warm, keeps his chin ducked down into his scarf, and Kate laughs and tries to hurry him along.

They talk about the city, about how Martha and Alexis are getting on at the loft by themselves. Beckett suggests sending Ryan and Esposito to check on their home, make sure their things are still intact, but there's a glint of mirth at the very corners of her lips.

After a little while they come across the clearing with the gnarled old tree stump and Kate untangles her hand from his and breaks across the flat ground, sinks to sit. The remnants of the tree trunk transform the moment she settles herself, suddenly regal and intricate, throne-like.

Castle moves to join her and sinks to his knees on the forest floor, not even caring that the mulch and moss is dirtying his pants. He leans in to lay his head against Kate's knee and she pulls off one of her gloves, sifts her fingers through his hair.

"Wanna hike up and see the waterfall? It looks cool in the winter."

"Sure," he says easily.

For a while they stay where they are, Castle arching into her touch and trying his hardest not to purr as she scratches lightly at his scalp, smoothes her thumb over the top curve of his ear. The way she touches him is so full of reverence that he thinks the gratitude might bring him to the ground if he weren't already kneeling at her feet.

There's a solemnity to this sparse little circle in the middle of the woods, the heads of the surrounding trees bent in grief for their fallen sister. Castle closes his eyes, Kate's kneecap shifting beneath his temple whenever she moves her leg, and he sends his silent gratitude up to whomever might be listening.

"Ready to go?" she asks, tugging on his ear.

Peeling his head away from her leg, he smiles up at her and gets slowly to his feet. He takes both of Kate's hands in his and brings her up to her feet. "I'm ready. You paid your respects?"

"Yes," she laughs. Kate hooks her arm through his and they make their way out of the clearing and back onto the pathway.

He can hear the waterfall after only a few more steps, its lyrical gurgling as the water tumbles over the edge of the rocks and splashes into the stream below. "It doesn't freeze?"

"I've only ever seen it happen once. Because the water is moving it takes much colder temperatures to freeze than the lake or even the actual stream."

They walk a little further, and then they break through the line of foliage and come to the top of the waterfall. The stream is much shallower than it was when they were here in the summer and Castle steps closer to the bank, crouches to let the water lap against his bare fingers.

Kate comes beside him, a gloved hand at the back of his shoulder to keep her balance. "When the snow melts in the spring the water all comes down this stream to the lake. That's why it's shallower right now. Most of the water is still snow at the top of the mountains."

"It's not as cold as I thought," he says. The water ripping over his fingers isn't exactly tepid, but it's almost refreshing in the chill of its touch as it laps at his skin. Not as freezing as he braced for when he slipped his hands beneath the surface

"Colder in the springtime, when it's freshly melted snow. Right now it's so shallow that the winter sun can warm it pretty easily."

Castle pulls his hand free from the water and dries his fingers against the thigh of his pants. Shifting carefully, he draws his legs up and sits at the bank of the stream, watches it cut a smooth and winding path across the forest floor.

His wife settles at his side, her cheek against his shoulder so that when he glances down at her she's all scrunched up. He remembers saying once that he felt like he was dating a shar pei, and he twists his neck to brush a kiss to her wrinkled forehead. "Have you ever jumped from the falls in the winter?"

"Never," she says immediately. He gets his arm around her shoulders and tucks her in against his side; sitting still is already making her shiver violently and he kisses her cheek, blows warm air against her neck. "I'd freeze before I even got in the water. And it's too shallow."

"Good point."

They sit for a little while longer, still enough that the forest starts to grow comfortable with their presence. A squirrel darts down from one of the trees and comes to drink at the stream. At first only the tip of his nose touches the water and he twitches, brings both tiny paws up to cover his face.

The shock of the cold subsides and the squirrel dips his head again and laps at the water. When he lifts up his muzzle is dark and tiny droplets cling to the underside of his chin. He washes his paws in the water, rubbing them over his ears, and then he darts back towards the shelter of the tree line.

"Let's get moving," he says. Kate is rattling against him and he brings them both to their feet, rubbing at her arms to warm her up again. She's smiling still, peering at him from beneath her hat where it's beginning to slip down her forehead.

Kate slides her hand into his and they walk through the woods together, careful to avoid the slippery patches of frozen mud. He's still on high alert, hoping for a glimpse of the bear, but Beckett tugs on his fingers to keep him moving and he walks along beside her.

"I was thinking about tonight," she says after a little while. He darts a glance over at her, furrowed brows and the twin spots of colour in her cheeks. "If you want to we could go into town. The diner has TV, so you'd be able to watch the ball drop. And you'd probably have enough signal to video call Alexis and Martha."

He takes a moment to consider it, and then he squeezes her skinny fingers against his palm. "No. Part of the reason we came up to the cabin was to spend New Year's Eve just the two of us. Alexis and Mother will be busy with their own plans, and I don't need to watch the ball drop. As long as I get to be kissing you at midnight, I'm happy to stay at the cabin."

"Okay." She gives him that shy little smile, a pleased tilt to her chin, and she picks up her pace a little more. "I'm freezing. And hungry."

"Lunch when we get back, then. And hot chocolate."

They break out of the woods and head for the cabin, practically jogging up the porch steps now that the allure of a warm home is within reach. Kate locked the front door out of habit, and to keep the bears out of the house, and her hands tremble around the metal of the key.

Eventually Kate manages to slide the teeth of the key into the lock and twist it, push the door of the cabin open. He stumbles inside at her back, practically draped over her, and Kate turns and puts her hands to his chest to earn herself a little bit of room.

"It's so warm," she pants. Kate pulls her sweater and the long sleeved shirt underneath off over her head, and her tank top gets tangled and rises as well. It exposes the lovely, smooth stretch of her stomach to him and Castle reaches for her, bare hands at her waist.

She screams and jerks violently away from him, tugging her tank top back down. Her face is all bunched up in a glare and he chuckles, comes in to kiss her in apology. Kate steps in close and winds her arms around his neck, lets him slick his tongue past the seam of her lips.

Her mouth is warm and wet and he breathes slowly through his nose as he kisses her, frozen fingers curling uselessly at the sharp juts of her hipbones. Kate's kiss is biting, her hands sneaking inside of his scarf to stroke at the paper thin skin of his neck.

Castle nudges a jean-clad knee between her thighs and she sinks down, rocking against him. He tugs away from their kiss and opens his mouth at her neck, tongue darting out to flick against the underside of her jaw. She chokes out a gasp and fists a hand in his hair, her sweater and the shirt inside it still dangling from two fingers at her other hand.

Castle lets her go and she separates the two, pulls the sweater back on over her head. Her hair sprays out with static charge and she lifts both hands to smooth it flat, a self-conscious little smile tugging one corner of her lips.

She moves for the fireplace and he follows clumsily along behind, half focused on pulling off his own coat and scarf. Kate pauses to pull off her rubber boots and tucks them neatly out of the way against the wall before she goes to her knees in front of the fireplace.

The log she added earlier is still burning, but it's down to a withered chip of wood now and she adds two more logs, poking at the fire to encourage it to light. Once the flames catch she holds her hands out to the mouth of the fireplace to let her fingers get warm, and he comes to stand beside her.

Castle forgot to wear gloves for their walk and his fingers are stiff with cold now, the feeling having long departed. He settles them clumsily against the back of Kate's head and she leans in to his touch, twisting to glance up at him.

"I'll make lunch," she says. Kate gets to her feet and gathers his hands in both of hers, pressing them together and trapping them against her chest. She blows warm air against the tips of his fingers and he steps in closer, their heads bent together and both staring down at the tangle of their hands.

After a minute, she lets him go and pushes on his shoulder until he sinks to sit in front of the fire. He holds his hands out and the shock of the heat makes him hiss a breath through his teeth, scrunching his eyes closed as the blood rushes back into his extremities.

"You stay there, get your fingers warm," Kate instructs.

He does as he's told, turning over his shoulder to watch her move towards the kitchen, but at her narrowed eyes he twists back to face the fire and concentrates on slowly moving his fingers, encouraging the feeling to return.


	13. Chapter 13

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

Kate is so absorbed in heating the soup at the stovetop that the touch of Castle's hands either side of her hips makes her jerk. She whips around to see him and he he grins, slides an arm around her waist. His free hand takes the wooden spoon from her, uncurling her fingers, and he sets it down in the spoon rest at the counter.

It's nothing too exciting, just tomato and basil, but she's making grilled cheese sandwiches as well. She needs the warmth and the comfort, and it's a lazy day. Castle dips down to kiss her, his smile against her lips and growing wider by the second. His free hand skims up her stomach, knuckles against the thick knit of her sweater, and he curls his fingers at her neck.

"Smells good."

"Thanks," she smiles. Kate breaks out of his grip, worried about their soup, and she turns back around to face the stove.

Her husband moves to stand beside her, pulling his phone free from his pocket and plugging it in to the speaker jack. The portable pod that Alexis got for him is shiny and purple, round as a grape, and it concertinas in the middle when you unscrew it. Kate had taken it from his hands when he pulled it free from his stocking on Christmas Eve, turned it over and over.

Alexis had laughed and apologised for not getting Beckett one too, and twin spots of pink embarrassment had flushed her cheeks, made her duck her chin. They'd all laughed at her and Castle had gotten his mouth against her ear, promised to share.

"Pick something we can sing to."

There's quiet for a moment, and then the first notes of the song swell to fill the open living space of the cabin. Kate dances at the stove, swaying her hips and shaking her head, tossing her hair to the music. It makes Castle laugh from beside her and he does his best to join in.

Her husband is slick and suave when they dance together, a masterful lead and well versed in traditional ballroom dances. With freestyle though, he struggles knowing what to do with himself and she giggles at him, sets her spoon down in the pot.

Stepping in close, Kate winds her arms around his neck to give him something to do with his hands. They come to her hips and he moves easily then, dancing her around the kitchen. Kate has to balance on the balls of her feet just to keep her body pressed against his, but his arm bands tight around her back and he keeps her pinned to his chest.

After the song finishes they break apart, laughter bubbling in the space between them, and Kate tucks her hair back behind her ears and moves to take care of her soup. Castle busies himself making their sandwiches, adding a generous layer of cheese to each one.

Sometimes he'll get a little creative, adding sauces and other ingredients. One time he made her a brie and apple grilled sandwich and she had climbed right into his lap at the island, almost toppling onto the tile in her haste to rock her hips against his.

Castle hip-checks her to earn himself some space in front of the stove and Kate steps to the side, still stirring her soup in the pot. She's heating it slowly, added a little extra basil too and some more seasoning. Her husband is such an inventive cook that Kate finds herself wanting to surprise him, for a moment pondering whether to add something bizarre like chocolate.

It's only soup, and they're on vacation, so Kate shrugs and divides it evenly between two bowls. Castle is grilling their sandwiches and Kate moves to the sink to rinse the pot, leaves it there to wash properly later. By the time she comes back Castle has plated their sandwiches, cut hers into two triangles and his own into four neat squares.

"Where do you wanna eat?" she asks, taking her plate and setting the bowl down on top.

Castle ponders for a moment, tilting his head and scanning the room. Their fort is still standing in the living room and he nods towards it, collecting his own food. "In the fort. And then we can dismantle it if you want."

"You'll spill it on yourself," she laughs. He makes a grumpy noise and heads for the fort and Kate follows at his back, keeps her bowl carefully against her chest as she sinks slowly to her knees and moves inside.

Castle is propped mostly upright against a pile of cushions and she comes to sit cross legged across from him, stealing one of the pillows to rest her bowl on so that the piping hot soup can't burn her through her jeans.

"I can be careful," Castle says petulantly. He's got his soup bowl in his lap, the plate with his grilled cheese just next to his hip, and he stoops over his food with his shoulders all hunched in as if he thinks she's going to try and swipe it from under his nose.

For a moment Kate just watches her husband, waiting for her soup and sandwich to cool down. He dips the corner of his grilled cheese into the tomato soup and takes a bite, grinning around his mouthful. His shoulders wiggle in easy happiness and Kate laughs, starts to tuck in to her own food.

"How's Tilly? She still living around here?"

He's speaking around a mouthful of sandwich and he flutters his fingers in front of his lips. "Yeah. Her dad's sick, so she's been taking care of him this past year or so."

"Remind me of his name?"

"Mr Johnson?" she laughs, rolling her eyes at her own self. Kate has known Tilly and her father since she was a gangly seven year old, and some of that childish awe and crippling respect still lingers. "His name is Ralph."

Castle nods, swiping his tongue out to the corner of his mouth to lick the last of the soup there. His lips have an orangey tint to them and he pouts at her, batting his eyes. She laughs and leans forward, supporting her weight with a hand pressed flat to the floor as she kisses him.

He tips his chin up, lifts his face into the touch of her mouth, a hand at the back of her neck to keep her there. His fingers are so warm now and they drum against her skin, his kiss sweet and soft. When he breaks away Kate has to sit back, her wrist aching with supporting her weight, and she rotates it slowly.

"We should go and visit him. Maybe not this trip, but soon."

"That'd be nice," Kate nods.

Since the last time they were here she's kept in contact with her childhood friend mostly via text and email. Tilly had been overjoyed for them when they got engaged, had emailed back an enthusiastic response when Kate showed her the wedding pictures.

They've talked some about Tilly's father, too. Ralph is dying, and Tilly has talked at length about her fears, about how she's going to cope with being an orphan. It's not the same - Jim never actually died - but for a while there Kate was all alone in the world, and she's offered the best advice that she can to her friend.

"You should text Tilly, honey," Castle says. He collects her empty plate and bowl and stacks them with his, crawls across the floor of the tent with one arm supporting his weight so that he can set the dirty dishes outside of the fort.

When he comes back he doesn't recline, props himself up against the pillows in the middle of the fort so that he can digest his food properly. Kate moves to sit with him, resting her cheek to his chest and drawing her legs up until her knees press against his thigh.

"I don't want to bother her over the New Year. I texted her to say we were coming up to the cabin, but she wants to have a quiet holiday season with her dad. It's-" she has to pause and swallow hard, close her eyes. "This is probably Ralph's last New Year's Eve. I won't take Tilly away from him."

Castle's fingers sift through her hair, arranging the ends across her shoulders, and he says nothing. She's not crying, not exactly, but grief is a wet and hungry beast that crawls up from her stomach to her throat and she has to count her breaths, a hand fisted in her husband's shirt.

After a while he rouses her with the nudge of his fingers underneath her chin and Kate sits up, swipes her fingertips beneath her eyes. They come away dry and she nods, sniffles a bit.

"Let's dismantle the fort. I want to dance with you this evening, and we need the floor space."

"Okay," she laughs.

Kate starts to crawl towards the exit of the fort, the two sheet flaps that don't quite manage to meet in the middle. On her hands and knees like this it puts her butt in his face and before she even makes it to the entrance two huge hands come to her hips and he hauls her back against him.

"Actually," he says as he rolls them, pinning her body beneath his. "I think we should see our little nest out with a bang."

"Oh, God."

She's sprawled beneath him, her legs wide to accommodate the press of his broad body between them. He supports his weight on his elbows so that he doesn't completely crush her and Kate runs both hands up his biceps and fists them in the collar of his plaid shirt, tugs him down to her mouth.

His hands come to either side of her head, wide enough to span her entire skull, and his hips rock raggedly down into the cradle of hers as he kisses her. His teeth are a sharp point of contact at her bottom lip, a flare of awareness, and then his tongue forges inside.

He's aggressive; there's something feral in the rumble of his moans, his growly throat. It makes her think of the bear again and she has to break away from their kiss, turning her head to one side to laugh. His lips come to her throat, high up beneath her ear, and he sucks at the thready hum of her pulse.

"Take this off," he grunts. His hands are in fists at the bottom of her sweater and he tugs, gets it all the way up to just beneath her chin. He has to stop kissing her so that he can remove it properly and he stares down at her as he pulls the jumper over her head.

His mouth is smudged with her kiss, his eyes hooded, and Kate curls her fingers at his ear and pulls him back down to her. He's wearing far too many clothes and she starts at the buttons of his shirt, finds her fingers graceless and fumbling.

It takes a concentrated effort but she gets them unfastened and pulls apart the two gaping halves of her husband's button down, tugs it off his arms. Kate tosses it somewhere behind herself and goes for his undershirt next, dragging it clumsily over his head.

Castle's hair sticks up all over the place and she laughs, smoothes it back down even as she arches her neck in search of his mouth.

Her whole body feels strung out with need, pulled taut, and she vibrates beneath him as he presses hard between her legs. It makes her gasp, makes her moan, and then he's unfastening the button of her pants and her brain washes through with a clean and brilliant light.

* * *

They lay naked in the fort for some time, a blanket pulled half over their bodies. Castle's chest is clammy with sweat beneath her cheek but she doesn't mind, happy to lay here draped on top of him. His hand is stroking back and forth along the length of her spine, his hairy thigh against her smooth one.

"We're gonna have to toss all of these sheets in the laundry."

"Yeah," she laughs. Kate curls her toes in the blanket at their feet and shifts to get comfortable. She feels right on the precipice, about to topple over into drowsiness, but the drugging touch of Castle's fingers is slowly stoking her back up again.

He hates hanging out on his back normally and he rolls now, drapes a heavy arm over the curve of her waist and brings his knees up. His face is right next to hers on the pillow and Kate strokes a fingertip down the straight slope of his nose, rests her index finger at his lips.

"I don't want to get dressed," he murmurs. "Would you mind if I just change into pajamas now?"

"It's not even three," she laughs at him. He's adorable, hair all mussed and sticking to his sweaty forehead, his body creaking like an old ship whenever he shifts. "But you don't need my permission. Do whatever you like babe."

The arm around her draws her in closer and she tucks up small against his chest, her nose to his sternum. His lips tickle along the pale line of her scalp and she shivers, drops a kiss just over his nipple. "No fun unless you're in your PJs too."

"How about a bath first?" she suggests.

Before Kate started dating Castle, she never really understood how people can have sex on the floor. And now with the press of his wide torso against hers she understands that when it's good, when it's right, you don't even notice the wood beneath you.

Still, it probably wasn't smart, and the base of her spine feels hot and tight now.

"Bath sounds wonderful. I'll go start it."

It takes him a minute to summon the energy to get up, but he makes it to all fours and he crawls his way out of the fort. Gloriously naked, and Kate props herself up on an elbow to watch him go. Once he's out of her sight she rolls onto her back again and covers her eyes with an arm flung across her face.

Castle's footsteps pad back and forth through the cabin, the water from the faucet thundering against the ceramic floor of the bathtub. He sings to himself as he moves around, his voice rumbly and ragged with the things she did to him.

Eventually he comes back and peeks in at her, sticks a hand through the gap in the front of the fort and wiggles his fingers. She clasps their hands and lets him tug her out of the fort, wandering naked and giggly through to the bathroom.

The tub is piled high with bubbles, candles littering the side of the bath and the counter as well. All of the lights are off, and dusk sweeps across the sky outside the window in a single brushstroke. Kate steps into the bathtub and sinks down, huddled next to the taps to give her husband space to climb in behind her.

He does, settling at the opposite end. His shoulders are broad enough to fill the width of the tub and he drapes his arms at the sides, legs drawn up and knees wide to give her space. Kate wriggles back until she meets the wall of his chest and she rests her head against his shoulder.

"Wait," she says. Sitting up straight again, Kate swipes a damp hand against the back of her neck. "I don't want to get my hair wet."

"Don't dip under."

Shaking her head, Kate climbs right out of the tub and hurries for their bedroom to find a hair tie. She drips all the way there, leaves a slippery path through the living room, and being out of the water has her shivering. She hops from foot to foot, teeth chattering as she rummages through her makeup bag.

When she finds a hair tie she yells out in triumph and Castle laughs at her from the bathroom, the water sloshing as amusement jostles him in the tub. She gathers her hair in a knot at the top of her head and goes back to the bath, slipping beneath the lovely heat of the water again.

Both of Castle's arms come around her, palms splayed at her stomach, and she leans against him on a sigh. Sharing the tub with him is so much more comfortable, because he's softer than the ceramic and he doesn't let her slip down in the water.

His lips come to her ear and he nuzzles there, teeth grazing her downy lobe. It makes her sigh, even though she just had him, and she tilts her head. Turning just a little, she rests her cheek to his collar bone and lets the tip of her nose meet his neck.

"Do we have goals for the coming year?"

"Honestly?" he starts. Castle twists his neck at an awkward angle to look down at her. His smile blossoms, wide and good, and she lifts a hand out of the water to skate damp fingers across the curve of his happy mouth. "I would be completely happy if things stay as they have been this year. Books selling well, Alexis and Mother doing great in school and the theatre. Married to the love of my life."

It makes her heart twist in her chest and Kate drops her hand to rest at his chest, her thumb sweeping back and forth. "But babe, things can't stay as they are. You're not allowed to come back to the precinct with me."

"I know. But I'll find other ways to fill my time. Get myself a project."

"See now why does that scare me," she teases. Kate kisses his chest, his skin damp with the heat of the water lapping at his belly button.

They're quiet for a while, watching the clouds gather in ominous swathes outside the window. She hopes so badly that it will snow, so that they can walk hand in hand on New Year's Day and turn back to see the winding crooked-step of their twin footfalls.

"If you anticipate it so much it won't happen," Castle says quietly. It makes her graze her teeth against his collar bone in retaliation.

The bathroom is so humid with the door closed that wispy baby hairs cling to her neck and her temples and she has to swipe her fingers against her upper lip. It makes her feel lazy, head rolling against her husband's chest, and for a while she wonders if she might just never move again.

After a while the water goes cold and she peels herself away from Castle's chest, shifts to her knees in the tub. Kate blows out all of the candles, closes her eyes to breathe in the just-extinguished smell. When she gets out of the tub the heat of the water has atrophied her muscles and her legs buckle; she slams both hands down on the countertop and her knees crack against the side of the cabinet.

Castle is already out of the bath, trying too late to catch her. She's okay for the moment, and he drapes first her towel and then himself over her shoulders. "Okay?"

"Yeah. Just got too hot. And sat too still. Give me a second."

He backs off, busies himself with his own towel. She watches in the mirror as he scrubs it over the plane of his chest and through his damp hair before he knots it at his waist. He's not as ripped as the guys on the billboards selling cologne or jeans, but his shoulders are broad and his waist tapers neatly and Kate finds her mouth dry, has to swipe her tongue around her teeth.

She has her legs underneath herself a little more firmly now and Kate wraps her towel beneath her arms and tucks in the end. Castle is waiting by the bathroom door, carefully not watching her, but concern carves fissures into his skin.

"I'm fine," she laughs. Kate moves to him and kisses the naked curve of his shoulder, tangles her fingers with his. "I promise. You just wore me out. But I'm fine."

He narrows his eyes, but when she smiles he smiles right back and lets her lead him out of the bathroom and towards their bedroom. They pull on their pajamas together and Kate leaves her hair on top of her head; the roots are still damp and she hates the feeling of it against the back of her neck.

"Okay," Castle claps his hands together. "Hot chocolate and laziness."

"We need to dismantle the fort first," she reminds him. His whole body sags and he grumbles, following her to the living room with his head hanging. It makes his hair flop over into his face and it's attractive in its boyishness, makes her guts do a strange twist.

In the living room, Kate stands with her hands on her hips and surveys the space. The couch and the armchairs look alien in their nakedness, all of the cushions and pillows piled up in the fort, and she turns to look up at Castle when he comes to stand beside her.

"Where do we start?"

"It's probably easiest to take away the pole and the chairs, and then we'll have a pile of blankets and sheets and pillows to sort through."

They coordinate themselves easily enough. The first task is to unfasten everything and Kate follows along behind her husband as he unfastens the laundry pegs that pin the sheets to the chairs, collecting them all in the plastic basket.

Once they've done that they put the chairs back in their rightful places at the dining table, and Kate ducks outside with the pole from the washing line. It's winter, and nobody's going to hang their laundry out to dry for months, so she props the pole up against the side of the house and ducks straight back inside.

"It's definitely going to snow," she announces, and Castle's head snaps up from where he's on the floor surrounded by sheets and pillows. "The whole world feels tense. Anticipation."

"I thought I was the writer," he laughs. Castle stretches out a hand towards her and she sinks to her knees on the floor at his side, takes the two corners of a bed sheet he passes to her. "But good. I hope it does. I can't wait to see what the cabin looks like."

They work together to get all of the sheets folded and stacked in a neat pile, and Kate scoops them all up and gets to her feet. She makes it halfway to the linen closet before she pauses and turns slowly back around to face her husband. "We were gonna wash these. We _have_ to. The things they've seen."

He laughs and comes to take the pile from her, leans in with the sheets between them to kiss the edge of her brow bone. "I'll put them in the washer if you're good to put all of the couch cushions back."

"I got it," she says. Kate lifts up on tiptoe on her way past him and busies herself in the living room, putting everything back in order. The throw blanket goes over the back of the couch; it's the one her grandmother knitted, and she refused to let either of their naked skins get anywhere close to it.

By the time the cabin is back in order Kate is exhausted and she flops down on the couch, folding her arms behind her head. The washer is whirring away now and Castle comes to sit at the other end of the sofa, lifting her bare feet into his lap and wrapping his hands around her toes.

She wiggles them in his grip and he drops his head to the back of the couch, rolls to look at her. "Why are we so tired?"

"Because we thoroughly wore each other out?"

"Yes, but we've been more adventurous than that before and it doesn't normally leave me so. . .so-"

He casts around for the right word, scrubbing a hand through his hair, and Kate takes pity on him. "Beached?"

"Yes. God. I might stay here until it's time to go back to the city."

Kate arches on the couch, her butt leaving the cushion entirely for a minute, and when she sags back down her body is loose and limp and she moans.

"I'm good with that."


	14. Chapter 14

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

They are ridiculously lazy for the rest of the afternoon.

Castle pulls up Netflix on his laptop and starts a show, sets the computer down on the coffee table. She curls up at his side and rests her cheek to his bicep, a blanket over both of their legs. On the laptop, _House of Cards_ plays and they chat quietly in the silent moments.

She's so glad she doesn't still work in DC. Politics isn't for her. It was a little over a year ago now, but she still feels guilty for ever thinking that job would be a good match for her. For moving away from Castle, even if he had been willing to follow.

"Are you enjoying it?" he asks when they're a few episodes in. He's seen this show before, binge watched it back when it first came out. They'd only been dating then, so it was normal for them to spend a few days apart sometimes, and she'd gotten a running commentary over text from him as he watched.

It's so strange to think about, now that they live together. Kate sees Castle every day, spends every moment with him unless one of them has to be someplace else for work. And now he's leaving the precinct, and she'll have to sit at her desk all alone and battle with the espresso machine every couple of hours.

Just thinking about it is exhausting and Kate turns her head, hides her face against the inside of her husband's arm. The hot wash of her breath against bare skin makes his muscle jump, and his lips come to the crown of her head.

"I'm enjoying it," she remembers to answer. Her voice is muffled like this, nose practically in his armpit, but she gets another kiss to the pale strip of her scalp.

"I must admit," he says quietly. "I'm glad this isn't our life. I know we're not exactly normal, but at least we can cuddle up on the couch and watch shows. These two are like a modern Macbeth and Gruoch."

That makes her laugh and she lifts her head to see him, rests a hand at his cheek. Kate darts in to steal a kiss from him, and when she tries to pull away a hand comes to the back of her head and Castle's tongue slicks past the seam of her lips.

Something is happening on screen, but her husband is warm and soft and she drapes her arms over his shoulders, stretches lazily up into their kiss. Eventually he breaks away, nudging her to pay attention, and she settles back at his side.

They watch a couple more episodes, gradually migrating until Kate's body is extended across the couch. Her head is pillowed at Castle's stomach, so she hears the first gurglings of hunger beginning beneath her ear somewhere in the middle of episode four.

It grosses her out and she has to sit up, swivels around to drape her legs over his lap instead. He tucks his arm beneath her, palm splayed at the outside of her thigh, and his fingers work slowly against the meat of her leg as they finish the episode.

"Ready for dinner?" she asks as the credits roll. Kate presses her lips together but the smile creeps out into her eyes and he huffs, darts in to kiss the teasing right off her mouth.

"I can wait if you're not hungry yet."

Kate untangles herself from him and pushes the lid of the laptop closed on her way past, shuffling to the kitchen in her bare feet. Her pajama pants hang down too low and she feels like a kid, hoists herself up to sit on the countertop and swing her legs.

When Castle comes to join her he nudges his way between her thighs and plants his hands either side of her hips. Bowing over her, he kisses her slow and good and she curls her toes against his calf, sifts lazy fingers through his hair.

Breaking away from their kiss, Castle lets his forehead rest against hers and he brushes the hair back out of her face. She drums her heels against the cabinets and scoots forwards on the counter until her chest meets his and she can tuck herself in close.

She feels like cuddling this evening, wants to wrap her arms around her husband and just lie someplace warm for a long while, but they've got things to do. Namely, appeasing the grumbling creature that lives in his belly and is still voicing his grouchiness.

"We still making our own pizzas tonight?"

"We had cheese, tomato and bread for lunch," she laughs. Castle frowns and spins around, heads for the refrigerator, but Kate hooks her toes in the waistband of his pajama pants and tugs him back towards her. "But I don't mind if you don't. As long as we can add some vegetables."

He kisses her cheek, breaking away from her again before she can go for his mouth, and he starts pulling things out of the refrigerator. There's the pre-cut chicken, peppers and onions, bacon, mushrooms, a packet of pepperoni. Kate turns on the heat at the stove and hunts through the cabinet for a skillet, sets it at the stovetop and adds a little oil to start getting warm.

She takes charge of chopping, slicing up the red and green peppers and the onion and adding it to the pan. Sniffling, Kate wipes the back of her hand over her cheek and heads for the sink to wash her hands, patting them dry on a dishcloth.

Eyes squeezed closed, she presses the heels of her palms against them and heads away from the skillet, bowing over the counter. A warm hand comes to rest between her shoulder blades and he laughs, dips in close until his lips are at her ear.

"I should have brought my onion goggles. You okay?"

"I'm good," she sniffs, straightening up again. Castle is holding out a tissue for her and she takes it, dabs at her eyes.

Kate heads back to the stovetop, laughing at her own self. She's always been particularly sensitive to onions; even scallions can make her eyes sting. She collects a wooden spoon from the little pot of utensils next to the stove and stirs the onions and peppers around in the skillet to let them cook.

Beside her, Castle is chopping up the mushrooms into neat slices, almost cartoonish with their curvy tops. Once he's done he adds them to the skillet to fry and he sets out their pre-cooked pizza bases, gets the tomato sauce and the bag of mixed grated cheeses from the refrigerator.

Once the vegetables are done Kate transfers them to a dish and they assemble their pizzas at the kitchen island, side by side and elbows knocking together. Kate tries to space her ingredients out properly so that each slice of pizza will have an equal share, but Castle is making a face.

He makes lips with a red pepper, all puckered up in a pout, and he nudges her arm. "Kiss for you."

"It's your pizza," she laughs. Kate darts in to kiss his mouth in reward for his goofiness, and then she steps back to watch him put the finishing touches on his dinner.

They clean up while the pizzas cook, rinsing the dishes and stacking them at the side of the sink to wash properly later. Kate wipes down the kitchen counters as well, sets out two plates for them.

"Where do you wanna eat?" Castle asks. He's got placemats and cutlery in his hands and he looks to her for direction, heads for the dining table at the nod of her head. Halfway there, he pauses and turns back to look at her. "Actually. Kate. Go away."

"What?"

"Go away," he says again. He's dumped everything in a pile in the middle of the table and he comes for her in the kitchen, plants his hands at her upper arms. "Can you just- I need a few minutes. Can you go to the bedroom?"

Kate shakes her way out of his grip, irrationally grouchy, and she stomps off to their bedroom. Manages not to slam the door, but it's a close thing. She uses the time to power up her phone and check her messages. There are a few emails from the precinct that she scans over, but everybody knows she's going to be mostly off grid over the New Year and they've left her mostly alone.

There's a text back from her dad, wishing her and Rick a happy New Year and checking in to make sure that everything at the cabin is okay. She starts to type out a reply, but a twist of grief makes her chest tight and she calls him instead.

"Hey Dad," she says when he picks up. Kate sinks to sit at the end of the bed and draws her feet up, presses the soles together.

"Katie. Hi sweetheart. How are you guys?"

Narrowing her eyes in the direction of the closed bedroom door, Kate huffs and flops to lay back on the mattress. "We're good. He's banished me from the kitchen. Won't tell me why."

"Oh honey," her dad laughs. "You know Rick. I'm sure it's some elaborate surprise. How's everything at the cabin? You handling the fire okay? Remember we've got those heaters."

"We've got one of them in the bedroom," she says. "But we're fine, Dad. Keeping warm and dry. We skated on the lake yesterday."

Her father makes a little noise of alarm and she closes her eyes through his lecture about making sure that the ice is safe, murmurs her agreement in all of the right places. Eventually he trails off, and there's a moment of quiet before he speaks again. "I'm glad you're having a good time, Katie. You two really deserve it."

"Thanks Dad," she says quietly, covers her eyes with her free hand. Being at the cabin is like existing outside of time, but she does miss the rest of their family. It's not like the last time they were here, when she wanted to shy away from the whole world and never emerge from being here with him.

"Kate!" Castle calls from the kitchen and she sits up in the bed.

"I think I'm being summoned," she laughs. Her father chuckles right back and says his goodbyes, is the one to hang up the call.

She goes padding through to the living area, has to pause and take everything in. Castle has somehow laid out their table so that it looks intricate and stunning. There's a tablecloth - she has no idea where he found it - and some candles as a centrepiece, a tall vase holding a cluster of branches with sprigs of round, shiny berries clinging to them.

"Castle, this is amazing," she says. Her eyes are wide and he comes to take her hand, brings her with him over to the table.

He pulls her chair out for her and she sinks to sit, spreads her napkin out over her lap. She feels ridiculous now, to be wearing pajamas and eating homemade pizza when the table looks so wonderful.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" he calls to her from the kitchen. She nods, and he comes back with two full glasses of red, the bottle tucked under the crook of his arm. He sets everything down and then he disappears again to collect their pizzas from the oven, plates them up and brings them back over.

When he puts them down Kate reaches out to snag her fingers in the bottom of his t-shirt. "Wait. Before you sit. Come here."

He steps in close and Kate reaches up for him, winds her arms around his neck. He has to brace his hands against the arms of the chair and his body looms over hers, but she kisses him and tastes the burst of rich, dark wine and beneath it, his liquid need.

"Thank you for this."

"Happy New Year," he says back. He leaves a last kiss at her cheek and goes to sit opposite her at the table, bare foot covering hers beneath it. "You deserve the best, Mrs Castle."

It makes her blush and she dips her chin, starts in on her pizza. It's really good, and she grins around her mouthful, nudges Castle with her toes so that he'll start on his dinner too. As they eat, she tells him about her brief conversation with her dad, asks if he's heard from Alexis and Martha. They've both texted him a couple of times apparently, but they're busy with their own plans, and he's mostly been too absorbed in Kate to be checking his phone.

The wine is making her feel loose and kind of sexy and she slides her bare toes up Castle's calf, tucks her foot inside the leg of his pajama pants. He moans and arches in his chair, reaches for her hand. He lays his fingers in the soft of her palm and she strokes the underside of his wrist.

"I have something for you," she says, just now remembering. His face comes alight on a leer and she shakes her head, giggling. Wow, okay, maybe too much wine, Beckett. "Not that. Let me go get it."

"Let me clear up first," he says back. Castle hates to leave dishes laying around, and he stacks them all up neatly and carries them over to the sink.

She helps, blowing out the candles and moving the votives over to the windowsill, plucking the cloth off the table in one clean swoop like a magician and folding it neatly. Once the place looks put together again, she pushes on Castle's shoulder to get him moving for the couch, and she heads for their bedroom to get the thing from the suitcase.

When she comes back he looks settled, comfy, and she allows her girlish impulse to propel her right into his lap. One arm slides around her waist, his fingers tucked into the waistband of her pajama pants, and he kisses the smooth slope of her neck.

"Are New Year's presents a thing now? Because I didn't get you anything."

"No," she laughs. Kate lays her head against his chest, her ear hot where it's trapped between her own skull and Castle's firm pectoral. "It was supposed to be for your Christmas. I just wasn't brave enough. Especially in front of everyone."

She feels him gulp and he takes the little box she's offering, balances it in his palm. "Kate, I can't think of anything dirty that would be small enough to fit."

"It's not dirty," she snorts. Shifting around, she slides her butt off his thigh and onto the couch cushion next to him, draws her legs in to watch him. "I gave you your dirty present on Christmas Eve."

"Oh I know," he says darkly. His eyes wander for a moment, staring at the fireplace but not really seeing, and she snaps her fingers in front of his face. He shakes his head on a little laugh and brings his focus back, darts in to kiss her mouth before he focuses on his present.

Castle tugs on one of the ends of the bow and the ribbon comes undone easily, the navy silk falling loose around the crisp white of the box. He eases the lid off and his eyes snap to hers, a little grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Jewellery?"

"You don't have to wear it."

She's been antsy about it; aside from his watch and his wedding band, Castle isn't the type of guy to accessorise, and she's so hopeful that he'll want to wear this, that it won't annoy him.

"Kate, I love this," he breathes. He pulls the bracelet free from the box and slides it immediately onto his wrist, adjusting the braided nylon thread until it's tight enough not to fall off. The bracelet has a white oval in the centre and he lays it flat against his wrist, looks to her for information.

"It's hand carved in Bali from sustainable water buffalo bone."

"It's so cool," he grins. "Where are these coordinates?"

The white bone part of the bracelet has a set of coordinates carved into it, filled in black so that you can read it easily. She had debated for a long time about where to choose, which place has been the most special to them. In the end though, the decision was easy.

"It's the precinct. It's where you became my partner, where we fell in love. Where so many of my best memories with you are. And now that you're not allowed back-" she pauses, darts a glance to him. His face is smooth as a river stone, eyes on the delicate bracelet, a bit absurd-looking around his thick wrist. "I wanted you to be able to keep it with you."

"Kate," he breathes, and then he's falling into her. His kiss is sloppy, a little desperate, and she soothes him with the stroke of her fingers at the softest part of his nape. Cups her palm over one ear the way her mother used to do when Kate was tiny and had a recurring infection, would be feverish and off balance.

Castle's thick fingers come to her thigh and he tugs until she slides easily into his lap. He kisses her, deep and drugging, and Kate rolls her hips in slow seduction. When he breaks away from her mouth he traps her face in his wide palms and stares up at her. "Kate. I love this. I love you."

"Are you sure it's not upsetting? I didn't want to rub it in your face that you can't come back with me."

"No," he says immediately. He's got that harsh set to his jaw, his body thrumming with urgency beneath her. "Not upsetting. It's perfect. I carry your heart with me."

"I carry it in my heart," she says back. They smile, twin fools, and she leans in to kiss him again. It's good, the hot press of his tongue in her mouth and the skilled work of his hands underneath her shirt. So very good, but she aches and she's not sure she can go another round today.

Not after the floor earlier.

"Castle, Castle, wait," she says. Palms braced flat against his chest, she scoots backwards on his thighs until the bony press of his knees digs into her butt. He's so dishevelled, and she grins widely at him. Usually that's her, spread out on the sheets all panting and undone, but he's a little wild beneath her. "I don't think I can. My back hurts."

Immediately he's easing her out of his lap and onto the couch, spreading her out beneath him. He tucks himself in between the length of her body and the back of the sofa, rests a hand at her chest so that the heel of his palm is over her heart, fingertips against the rise of her collar bone.

"We can rest. That's fine too. I can't believe- this is awesome, Beckett. I'm gonna wear it every day."

"You don't have to if it annoys you," she says. All of the pillows have gotten rucked up and she snags one, stuffs it between her head and the arm of the couch. The awkward angle of her neck makes her chin crease into folds and Castle traces the tip of his finger over her skin, makes her writhe and swat at him.

He stops tickling her eventually, resting his hand at her stomach instead. Propped up on one elbow, he hovers over her and she slides an arm around his neck, tugs until he leans down to kiss her. It's a mostly directionless touch of their mouths and then he lies down properly, nose to nose with her on the pillow.

"You're amazing."

It makes her blush and she hides her face against his neck, skating her fingers up and down the soft cotton of his t-shirt. Castle kisses the very top of her forehead, right at her hairline. Little soft presses of his lips until she lifts her head to see him again.

"Kate," he whispers. "I promise to love you my whole life."

"I promise too."

She rolls to lay her head against his chest then, draping herself over him really, and she closes her eyes. Something about striding side by side into a new year as husband and wife is making them both a little melancholic, and she thinks just resting for a while might be the smartest choice.

"What's wrong with us?" he murmurs.

It makes her cackle, tossing her head back on the bursts of laughter that escape her, and she opens her eyes to see his happy face peering down at her. "I might be a little tipsy. We drank that whole bottle."

"Still, you can usually hold your alcohol better than that."

"I think I'm a little tipsy on you, too," she admits. Kate strokes her fingers down the side of Castle's face and he turns his head into her touch, lips dusting a little kiss against the middle of her palm. "All this proximity."

He makes his eyebrows dance at her, his lips pressed together. "Are you drunk in love, Beckett?"

She kisses him in answer, drawing a leg up until she can hook her knee high up at his thigh. It's so good to lounge lazily with him; they've done parties before, even hosted last year, but there's something to be said for a peaceful New Year's.

Something like a purr rumbles in her chest and Castle breaks away from their kiss to laugh. "Might be our last quiet one for a very long time."

"I didn't say a solid yes to the dog."

"I wasn't really thinking about the dog," he says. Castle rolls onto his back, drawing her with him with an arm banded tight around her shoulders. She lets him arrange her over his chest, kisses his chest through the fabric of his shirt. "I was thinking about coming back here with the little ones."

Sometimes even now she can't believe how brazen she had been to say that to him. Granted, it had been in the deepest pitch of the night and Castle had been half-delirious with itching, but even so. It's a courage she found herself wishing she could harness again for much of the following year, and it still makes her giddy heart a little frantic to think of it.

"Yeah," she says, because Castle needs the words from her. "Soon. Maybe not next year. Let us get settled into marriage a bit more. But the one after. I hope."

"I can't wait," he rumbles beneath her.

Neither can she, even if the distinct metal-taste of adrenaline fills the back of her throat. Kate is entirely unsure that she's ready to be a mother, to carry their child around in her belly for forty weeks and let it drain her life force.

To squeeze the giant Castle head out of her body.

"You're panicking," he says softly. His fingertips are at her arm now, skating up and down, and he lingers at the curve of her neck. "It can still just be dream talk, Beckett. It's not- I've got Alexis. I'm happy to spend the rest of our lives just me and you."

"No, Rick," she says fiercely. Rising up on the couch, she supports her weight on one elbow propped against the cushion. "I do want it. I really really do. It just seems like such a foreign concept still. I'd never thought it was something I'd ever have until I fell in love with you."

His smile breaks across his face like the dawn, peach and arcing wide, and he stretches his neck to press that joyful mouth to hers. Their kiss is sloppy, teeth clacking, and she has to break away and let her laughter bubble against his cheek.

"I do still want to talk more about the idea of a dog though. I've never had a proper pet before, Beckett."

"Me neither. Except you."

He grumbles, and she kisses the very tip of his nose. It startles him, makes him blink, and Kate lays her head back down against his chest again. "But really Kate. Mother has her new play, Alexis is so busy with school, I can't follow you around. I'm gonna be so lonely."

"You won't be lonely," she says fiercely, feels it rising in a great tide through her chest. "I'll never let that happen. Neither of us ever needs to be lonely again."


	15. Chapter 15

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

"Can we do sparklers now?" Kate asks. She had been curled up in the armchair with a book while he called his daughter and made her promise to stay safe tonight. Alexis and Kate had chatted briefly and he had tried not to listen in, had come back to the living room when his wife called for him and taken his phone from her.

After that call, he had washed up their dishes from dinner earlier and cleaned the kitchen a little more thoroughly. He finds it therapeutic, to scrub the stovetop and the counters, sweep the floor. Everything is shiny and bright now, and Kate with her pink cheeks and wide smile fits right in.

"Sure. Let's do sparklers."

Kate lifts up on tiptoe to kiss him, brief and happy, and then she turns away to head for their room. He follows and they pull on shoes and coats, scarves. His wife is adorable in her knit beanie hat and she smiles into his kiss, lays a hand at his shoulder.

"You need gloves. Dangerous to use them without."

"Right," he nods. His drawer in the dresser is half neatly folded pants and shirts, and half a jumble of underwear and socks and knitwear. His gloves are there and he pulls them on, flexes his fingers. "How are we going to light them?"

Kate's wearing her rubber boots again and she lifts up on tiptoe in them, bouncing like a little kid. It's adorable, and he has to step in close and wrap an arm around her shoulders. The wool of her hat tickles his chin and he shivers, lays his cheek to the top of her head instead.

"There's that wand lighter for the candles. Probably easiest."

He follows her back into the living space of the cabin, making a detour to the kitchen to grab the packet of sparklers from the cabinet he stashed them in. Kate has collected the lighter from the drawer in the end table and she holds it up to show to him.

Outside, the cold makes his face feel immediately tight and he tucks himself down into the warmth of his scarf. The clouds are clinging to the sky like fog and the stars are invisible, the moon like a streetlamp barely burning through the mist.

Castle opens the packet and tugs out the first couple of sparklers, setting the packet down on the porch steps. The ground is hard beneath their feet and he stomps in his sneakers, curls his toes up to work some feeling back into them.

He holds the sparkler steady for Kate to light the end of it, and once she sets the lighter down he passes it over to her. Castle lights his sparkler from the end of hers and it starts to crackle, sparks flying from the end and blinking out into nothing before they hit the ground.

Kate is grinning so wide, waving her sparkler around to make shapes in the darkness, and for a moment he just stands there holding his, awestruck by her.

"Castle," she laughs. "You're holding it too close to your body. You're gonna set yourself on fire."

"Right."

He shakes his head and starts to wave his sparkler around, writes his name in the sky. They burn quickly and Kate huffs a sigh when her sparkler burns out. The top part is bent at an angle from all of the patterns she was drawing and she laughs.

"Wait there," she says to him, lays her free hand at his chest.

Kate darts inside the house and he stands holding both of their sparklers, the two metal centres twisting in his grip. The top ends of the sparklers twine their bent heads together like two swans, and Kate comes back with the bucket from beside the fireplace.

She's emptied the kindling out of it and she sets it down on the bottom step of the porch. Taking the two burned-out sparklers from him, she dumps them in the bucket and turns back to smile. "Safety first."

They light their next sparklers and she moves to stand at his side, her arm brushing his through the bulk of their coats. "Okay, race you. First one to write their name."

"Beckett's got more letters than Castle. And Katherine has more than Richard. Doesn't seem very fair."

"I meant Kate and Rick," she laughs. She takes a couple of steps away from him so that they've both got room to move their arms. "Three, two, one, go."

The hysteria of adrenaline fills him immediately and he hurries to scrawl his name in the air, crying out sounds of frustration when his arms won't go as fast as he wants. When Alexis was little they used to have competitions to see who could write fast enough that the whole word was visible in the sky at once, and he's pretty proud of his speed and dexterity.

"I win," he crows, pumping his free fist in the air. His sparkler burns out and he drops it in the bucket, dancing a little on the spot. Half to keep warm, and half because childish joy is coursing through him.

Kate's sparkler finishes burning too and she dumps it into the bucket, folds her arms across her chest. Her bottom lip plumps out into a pout and he laughs, swoops in to kiss the grouchiness right off her mouth. When he tugs back she's still frowning and she steps back from him.

"I was right behind you. And it's not fair; one of your letters is an 'I'. That's just a line."

"It's got a dot," he says back. His voice is a little squeaky, and Kate is still frowning. For a second there's a beat of irritation and then he laughs, reels her in with his gloved fingers hooked in the pockets of her coat. "Let's not fight about this."

She lets him bring her in, but she's as hard and unyielding as the earth beneath them. Rick kisses the pink tip of her nose and steps back.

For a moment she considers him, her head tilted and her hair curling beneath her hat. "I have an idea. Rematch. We're both Castle now, right?"

"Right," he grins. "Yes. Okay. Let me grab a couple more."

This time Kate develops a stance, her legs wide, and the moment they've both got their sparklers lit she starts writing. No countdown, and it takes him a second to kick into action and write out his own name. She finishes first and she cheers, lifting her sparkler into the air like a torch.

"Hey!" he says. "You cheated. You gave yourself a head start."

Kate arches one slow eyebrow at him until it disappears up underneath her hat. It makes him gulp, and he lets her have the win. Her shoulders wiggle with girlish pride and he laughs, draws her in to kiss her. The press of her nose against his cheek is freezing, but her mouth is warm and wet and she opens to the insistent touch of his tongue at the corner of her lips.

"Three more each," he says when they break apart.

Kate gestures for him to pass her another sparkler and she lights it, holds hers steady so that he can light his as well. The crackle as the fuel burns fizzes in his guts like anticipation and he smiles, swoops his sparkler in a slow arc back and forth.

In a few years time, they'll be here and helping their family to hold their sparklers, keeping careful watch so that nobody gets hurt. He loves the holidays, but there's something extra magical about spending them with kids. The round little faces tipped up in anticipation, the way they hunker down in your arms to shelter from the windchill.

He's full up with a strange mixture of melancholy that Alexis isn't that tiny anymore, and anticipation to do this with Kate, to see their babies. The longing has him so arrested that he doesn't even notice his sparkler has burned out until his wife eases it free from the stiff curl of his fingers and dumps it in the bucket with hers.

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?"

"Yes," he admits. "I always thought that I was happy with Alexis, and I am of course, but kids with you. God, Kate, I can't think of anything I want more."

Stepping in close, Kate winds her arms around his neck and lifts up on tiptoe in her rubber boots. Her kiss is soft and lazy. When she breaks away from his mouth, she rests her forehead at his cheek; the wool of her hat is scratchy at his skin.

"I do want it too, but can we-" She pauses to pull back and see him. Both hands come to cup his face and he smiles down at her. "Can we shelve it for a little while? I want to enjoy it being just us for a bit."

"I wanna enjoy you too." His voice is grumbly in his throat and Kate laughs, kisses the jut of his chin.

They've got two more sparklers each and they're mostly quiet as they burn them. Kate hops like a sparrow searching for her supper, the cold making her hands shake. Her breath comes in these little puffs and it reminds him strangely of their very first kiss, a freezing alley in January and Kate stumbling drunkenly into his side.

"Okay," she says once both of their last sparklers have burned out. "Let's go inside. I'm freezing."

Castle scoops up the bucket from the porch step and puts the empty wrapper from the sparklers inside, carries it with him back into the house. In the kitchen, he empties it out into the garbage can and he comes back to set the bucket down next to the fireplace.

The kindling is piled up on a sheet of newspaper and he sets to work putting it all back in the bucket. His gloves are still on, and little pieces of moss and fragments of bark get stuck in the wool. Kate is messing with the fire, trying to coax it back into roaring, but it's being stubborn.

Once he's done she takes the sheet of newspaper the kindling was on and holds it across the mouth of the fireplace, blocking it off. He can't see what's happening, but the fire suddenly starts to crackle and when she moves the newspaper the flames are licking at the log with renewed vigour.

"I'm gonna make hot chocolate," he says. Castle tugs off his gloves and skims his fingers against the bare skin of her neck. Her scarf is dumped on the floor at her other side, but her hat and gloves are still on. "You want some?"

"Sure. Thanks."

He checks his watch on the way to the kitchen, surprised to find that it's nearing eleven already. They've been lazy for most of today, but it's good. It's what they've needed. Halfway through making the hot chocolate Kate appears at his side, in just her sweater now, and she takes over the stirring so that he can peel out of his own coat.

They head to curl up on the couch with their mugs, marshmallows bobbing like chubby little snowman bellies in the cocoa. Kate is sitting sideways, leaning against the arm of the sofa. Her legs are drawn up, feet tucked underneath his thigh, and she wiggles her toes.

"Thank you for a perfect last day of the year."

"Thank you for a perfect every day of the year," he says back.

It makes her snort and shake her head at him, but even in the peach of the lamplight he can see the warmth in her cheeks and creeping up the column of her neck. The cocoa is so good, warming him from the stomach out, and he closes his eyes.

He's still not quite used to the silence of the cabin, half expects a car horn or angry voices to interrupt their peacefulness, but it never comes. The closest they get is the far away braying of a deer into the still night.

Once they've both drained their mugs he takes Kate's from her and sets them both down on coasters at the end table. Castle stands up from the couch and takes both of her hands in his to bring her to her feet as well. He leaves her standing there for just a moment, and he turns off all of the lights in the cabin.

The fireplace is still glowing and he flips on the lights along the mantel, turns on a single lamp in the living room too because he wants to be able to see her. There's an empty stretch of floor over by the dining table and he takes her hand, brings her with him.

Earlier he set up his portable speaker at the table and he plugs his phone in now, starts the playlist. Stepping in close to Kate, he winds both arms around her waist. Hers come up to drape over his shoulders and they sway slowly together.

Her thighs brush against his with every step, her breath against the edge of his jaw, and he dips in close to kiss her forehead. Dancing with her always makes him feel so humbled, and he strokes his fingertips at the small of her back.

The next song is a little livelier, more of a rhythm to it, and he removes one of his arms from her waist and takes her hand in his instead. Her other comes to rest, palm flat, at his chest, and he dances her around the little space.

She's laughing, her hair tossing back and forth as he spins and dips her, and when the song finishes she lifts up to kiss him. It crumbles around their twin smiles and he lets his hands slide lower, drawing her close until her hips meet his.

"We should go out dancing more," she says. He never would have expected it, but Kate loves to dance just as much as he does. A couple of weeks ago at the precinct Christmas party she had been jumping and tossing her arms with Lanie and the boys, and then the songs had gotten slower and she'd come to seek him out, tucked herself in close.

For those three songs, before they'd decided to head home, he'd managed to shake away his melancholy and just be in the moment, loving his wife.

"We should," he agrees.

For the next song, Kate lays her cheek over his heart and he rests his chin at the top of her head. Her arms are drawn up, her fists at his sternum, and he wraps his arms tight around her. They're barely even moving now, only swaying a little on the spot.

He feels the vibration before he hears anything, and one palm comes up to cup the back of her head as she sings along. Kate is a little shy about her voice, has taken almost a year to join in the singalong with Alexis and his mother, but with him she's never tried to hide it.

That first month together, he woke up to the lovely lilt of her song as she showered, and when she came out she finished the lullaby for him. His heavy head had rested in her lap and her fingers had sifted through his hair as she sang to him.

Often he'll join in, duet with her, but tonight she's so soft and so beautiful that he doesn't dare to. When the song finishes she pulls back to see him and he has to kiss her. His fingers work their way into her hair, thumbs stroking at the soft skin behind her ears, and he touches his tongue to the corner of her lips.

She opens right up for him, lifting up against his body as he kisses her, and a moan hums in the back of her throat.

"Mm, Castle," she says, breaking away from their kiss. "Can we- I kind of want to save the kissing for midnight. Dumb."

"Not dumb," he says immediately. "Adorable, really. Sure, let's save our kisses."

They dance for a while longer, both of them moving smoothly together as the music fills the space of the cabin. It's dark enough in their little corner that he can see out of the window and to the lake, a great pool of shadow in the moonless night.

It takes him a few seconds to process what he's seeing, and then he breaks out of Kate's arms and tugs her with him over to the window. "Look. It's snowing."

"Finally," Kate breathes. She's got a hand splayed against the glass, the tip of her nose almost touching the window as well.

"Let's go out in it." She turns over her shoulder to look at him and he grins, tugging on her free hand. "Come on honey. Ten minutes till twenty fifteen. Let's go out into the snow."

They hurry their way back into the knitwear they scattered through the house earlier. Kate is eager as a little girl and just as adorable in her shiny red boots and her knitted cap, and she waits by the French doors for him to find what he did with his gloves.

Rushing makes him clumsy and he stumbles on his way back to her, has to stop and ties his shoelaces properly. He gets it done and he straightens up again, slides his hand into Kate's as they make their way outside.

On the porch he kisses her, excitement sweet on her lips, and then she breaks away and hurries down the steps. The ground is cold enough that the snow is sticking and it's coming down heavily; already, the dark earth is scattered with flakes like freckles in negative.

Snow gathers along the tops of their shoulders and clings to their hair like a static charge, but Kate smiles and tips her face up towards the sky. After a moment she comes back to him and winds her arms around his waist. She blinks to clear the tiny flakes that cling to the thick of her lashes, and he swoops in to kiss her.

The cold makes his face feel pulled tight across his skull and he hides against the warmth of Kate's neck. The press of his nose to her skin makes her yelp and wriggle her way out of his grip, coming around to stand at his side instead.

Out here in the woods it feels as if the whole world is holding its breath and he reaches for Kate's hand, squeezes tight. She's silent beside him, but her body hums with joy and he shifts just a little bit closer, lays his cheek against the top of her head. His ears ache, the cold spreading across into his jaw, but it's so worth it.

"Time check?"

Castle tugs his phone free from his coat pocket and presses the button to wake it. These are the special gloves that Kate put in his stocking last year, the ones that work on screens, so he types in his password and the home screen springs up.

"We've got about a minute and a half of two thousand fourteen left. Anything you want to do this year while you still can?"

"Already married you," she grins.

He opens up the clock app and they bend their heads together over his phone to watch the red second hand make its way around the clock face. Castle is the one to start the countdown, but Kate joins in immediately. Her fingers are wiggling in his, anticipation making her bounce on the balls of her feet.

The moment they reach midnight Kate surges into him, both arms around his neck and her mouth crashing against his. He kisses her right back, hands at her waist to steady her a little. His tongue slicks past the seam of her lips and she sucks at him, her kiss urgent.

"Happy New Year," he says when they break apart.

Kate's mouth is kiss-smudged, her hair falling into her eyes, and she beams at him. Her gloved hands are at his cheeks now and he's so glad for the warmth. "Happy New Year, Rick. I love you."

"I love you too, Mrs Castle."

She doesn't even sigh this time. Just kisses him again, her hands covering his ears now. It's strange, sets him off balance, and he sucks at her bottom lip.

The ringing of his phone breaks them apart and he swipes his fingertip across the screen to answer the call, his free hand tucked into Kate's pocket. "Hi, Alexis. Happy New Year pumpkin. I'm gonna put you on speaker, okay."

He presses the button and the noise of his daughter's party rings out through the silence of the woods. Kate steps in close, her cheek at his shoulder. "Hey Alexis. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year Beckett. And you Dad."

His daughter is slurring a little and his startled eyes fly to Kate's, but she laughs and pats his chest. "She's twenty one, babe. What are you gonna do?"

"M'not drunk, Daddy," Alexis is saying. "Just having fun."

"Okay sweetie," he says. "Remember to have water in between each drink, please."

He gets a scoff from Alexis, and then she's saying her goodbyes and hanging up. Kate laughs at him and he tries to wipe the horror off of his face. It's only half for show; his daughter is legal now, and she's in college, but she's also still his baby girl.

"I'm sure she's being safe. She's a good kid."

"I know," he grumbles.

Kate watches him for a moment more, and then she lifts up and captures his face in her hands again, kisses him. She tastes cold, and he starts trying to herd her back towards the warmth of the cabin. It makes them stumble and she breaks away from his mouth to laugh.

"Wait. Just a few minutes more. I love snow."

"I know you do," he says. She's not even looking at him, captivated by the flurries that cling to the trees, and he wraps his arms around her from behind. "It's beautiful. But we can spend all day tomorrow out here enjoying it, I promise. Right now I just wanna keep us both warm."

"So keep kissing me."

It's cheesy, and he snorts, but she turns in the circle of his arms and he dips his head to find her mouth again. Their breath warms his face and hers too as they kiss, and he wraps his arms tighter around her waist.

Her body rattles in his arms and he grunts, breaks away from their kiss. "Okay. Enough. I'm taking you to bed."

"Oh, really?" she teases, tilting her head.

Castle snags her hand in his and practically drags her up the porch steps and into the house, closing the French door and sliding the lock shut.

They get ready for bed in easy silence, dumping all of their layers on the floor in their room. It's late, and they were both up early this morning. He wants her, obviously - he's never too tired for that - but he doesn't feel like putting away his scarf right now.

After they've brushed their teeth he chases her into bed and rolls them, his body between her thighs. Neither of them bothered to put on pajamas and he rocks against her bare skin, brushes the hair out of her face. "This is gonna be the best year. I can feel it."

"I hope so," she says against his mouth. One of her legs is hooked over his, heel pressing into the meat of his calf, and Kate arches up off the mattress until her body meets his. She's frantic, but he wants slow and lazy with the snow coming in heavier flurries outside the bedroom window.

"Hey, hey," he soothes. Kate struggles for a moment and then she relaxes beneath him. Like this, spreadeagled and naked in their bed, she looks so beautiful that he has to close his eyes. He rests his forehead to her clavicle and a hand comes to the back of his head, fingers sifting through his hair.

His mouth opens at her chest, tongue darting out, and a shiver ripples through his wife's entire body. He can feel the bloom of her smile against his crown, and when he lifts up to see her he has to kiss that happy mouth.

"Come on, Rick," she says. Kate curls her fingers at his ears and tugs until he bows over her, lips almost touching. "Let's see in the New Year."

"You know, they say that whatever you're doing when the clock strikes midnight is what you'll spend the rest of the year doing. I really hope that's true. I want to spend my year kissing you."

He gets a snort of laughter for his romantic efforts, and then she's lifting her head from the pillow, barely enough time to retort before she seals her mouth to his.

"Stop talking. Start doing."


	16. Chapter 16

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

"Good morning," he says as soon as he opens his eyes.

Kate is still in bed beside him, and still naked. She's on her stomach, an arm folded beneath her head and her cheek pillowed against it. Her free hand strokes back and forth across the top of his shoulder, only the very tip of her index finger making contact with his skin.

"Good morning. Happy two thousand fifteen."

"Mm, it is so far," he says, a grin splitting the seam of his lips. Castle rolls onto his back and stretches both arms up above his head, hooking his fingers around the top of the headboard. He arches his spine and groans, and when he sags back to the mattress Kate comes to drape herself over his chest.

She's warm and soft, the length of her body nestled in close to his, and he brings an arm down to wrap around her. Her lips form a kiss at his chest and it makes his pectoral muscle jump, which only makes her giggle and then he's laughing too. "How'd you sleep? How long have you been awake?"

"Not very long. You wore me out. And we stayed up pretty late."

"Heh," he says, remembering all over again the press of Kate's body over his, the wild toss of her hair. Slick skins sliding and his name in her mouth over and over.

They lie there for a while, Kate's body slowly dissolving into his. Her hair tickles his upper arm where it splays across his bicep and he arranges the ends, sifts his fingers through it to carefully separate the knots. Eventually, he remembers the date and he snakes a hand down beneath the sheets.

His wife has a perfect butt, and he's always wanting to touch. Now, he pinches her and she jolts, lifts up on an elbow to glare at him. He gets a lovely view all the way down the front of her like this, but instead he curls his fingers into a fist and very gently punches her arm.

"Pinch, punch, first of the month."

"What the hell did you just do?" she asks. Kate sits up against the headboard, a fearsome scowl on her face, and she yanks the sheets away from him so that she can tuck them over her chest. "You punched me."

Sliding a hand behind her, he draws her back down to lie with him and he wraps both arms tight around her, kisses the wrinkles of her neck. "Hey, I'm sorry. It's a British thing. I think maybe they do it in Australia too?"

She's still grumbling, and it's taking everything he has in him not to laugh. Instead he smoothes a hand over her hair and tucks her in against him, kisses her forehead.

"The last time I was in the UK for book stuff, I happened to be there on the first of the month. And it's just a thing they do, a good luck thing I think. You pinch the person and you punch them and you say that. But only before 12pm, then it becomes bad luck."

"I think it's become bad luck for you anyway," she says. She's so grouchy that it's just making him laugh, and eventually he can't help it. It comes bursting out and he has to hide his face half against the pillow, his shoulders shaking. Kate swats at him, entirely unimpressed. "Castle, I don't think it's very funny. You _hit_ me."

"I know baby," he says, forcing back his amusement again. "I'm sorry. Come here. Let me make it up to you."

He starts at her collar bone and works his way up, leaves little kisses like footprints along the column of her neck. At the corner of her lips he lingers a while, and sure enough Kate turns her head to catch his mouth and kiss him properly. He's mindful of his morning breath, and he draws a hand up her side and wraps his fingers around the back of her shoulder.

"Are you really mad?"

"No," she admits, and she finally cracks a smile. "You just startled me. But that's a cool tradition. You trying to spread it across America?"

He kisses her for that, and then he rolls onto his back again. Doesn't tug on her this time, but she comes anyway and drapes herself over him. "That would be pretty cool, wouldn't it? See how far I could get it to go."

"Just tweet it," she says. "You'd reach what? A hundred thousand people. It's a good start."

He murmurs his agreement against the crown of her head and reaches for the sheets, drawing them up to tuck around her. They didn't remember to turn the space heater on last night, and now they're both naked and the early morning has an unpleasant chill.

Kate shivers, just once, and he eases her slowly off of his chest and goes to turn the heater on. He climbs back into bed with her and huddles up, practically cradling her to his chest. "Why don't we just get up and get the fire going?"

"Because I want a lazy morning in bed with you. New Year's Day, Beckett. It's tradition."

"We've done it once," she snorts.

Their first year together, because she blew off the Christmas shift, Kate had to work New Year's Day. She hadn't drunk at the party the night before, had crept out of his bed at barely six am. He missed her, had texted her all day.

The second year they got to be lazy, but his mother had knocked on the door around eleven and suggested they all go out for brunch. He had grumbled and clutched at his fiancée, but Kate had seemed eager and so he'd gotten himself out of bed and dressed, had walked hand in hand with Beckett behind Alexis and his mother.

He's not doing it this year. This year, they're staying in bed for as long as they feel like it, no interruptions.

"Doesn't mean we can't make it a tradition."

"Okay," she says. The room is warming up now and Kate rolls onto her back, an arm hooked around his neck to draw him with her. He props himself up on his forearm and leans down to kiss her. Kate's tongue darts out to touch the corner of his lips and he tugs back.

It makes her frown and arch her neck to chase his kiss, and he shifts further away. "Let me go brush my teeth."

"We're married. I don't care."

"There's a taste," he says. Castle runs his tongue around his mouth, over his teeth. There's something bitter there, metallic almost, and he climbs out of bed and shivers his naked way to the bathroom. He leaves the door open, and in the mirror he sees Kate roll onto her stomach in their bed and prop her chin in her palms.

After a moment, she comes to stand beside him, shifting from foot to foot to get warm. She plucks her toothbrush from beside the sink and runs it under the faucet, squeezes out some paste. "We can't make out if you're minty and I've got sock mouth. I'll be self conscious."

He laughs around the brush in his mouth and some toothpaste dribbles down from the corner of his lips. Castle swipes the back of his hand across his face, but that only smears the foamy paste across his chin and his hand as well. He puts up with it for a few more seconds until he's done and then he spits into the sink.

Rinsing his hand under the stream of the faucet, he cups some water in his palms and splashes it against his face, wipes away the toothpaste. His skin feels tight with the mint and he pats himself dry with a washcloth, straightens up to watch his wife finish.

The moment she's done he scoops her up and hoists her over his shoulder, her bare ass in his face as he hauls her back to bed with him. She's squirming above him, all soft curves and smooth planes of skin, and when he makes it to the bed he drops her to the mattress.

She bounces, but already he's crawling into bed with her and nudging his way between her legs, seeking her newly-clean mouth. Their kiss is sloppy, both of them breathless and laughing, and Kate rolls them and climbs into his lap, captures his head in her palms.

Bowed over him, her hair falls over her shoulder to tickle him and she slicks her tongue into his mouth, pulls back to bite at him. His arousal is becoming more urgent by the second and he rocks his hips uselessly, until she shifts to take pity on him.

* * *

"You stay right there," he says as he climbs out of bed.

Kate is sprawled in the middle of the mattress, the sheets tugged up to cover the swell of her ass. Her hair is wild across her shoulders, the curve of her back smooth and creamy, and she barely opens her eyes to see him as he pulls on his boxer shorts.

It's well into the morning now and his stomach is grumbling its discontent. Their bedroom is warm, from the space heater and the sex both. Through the open door he can feel how cold the rest of the cabin is and he pulls his pajamas on, finds a sweater as well.

In the kitchen, he starts the coffee before he does anything else. In front of the refrigerator, he rubs his hands together for a moment as he thinks. He pulls out the carton of milk and some butter, an egg, collects the rest of the ingredients he needs and turns on one of the burners, sets a skillet down on top of the stove to get warm.

Castle mixes all of the ingredients together in a bowl to form the batter and adds a handful of chocolate chips, mixes them through. He spoons out some of the batter into the skillet and while the pancake cooks he puts together a bowl of fresh fruit for them to share.

He uses all of the batter, makes a couple of pancakes for each of them, and he arranges two plates and the bowl of fruit on the tray for them. Rick fixes them both a mug of coffee and brings everything through to his wife in bed.

She's pulled on pajamas now and she's sitting propped up against the headboard. When he comes in she closes her book and sets it down on the nightstand, straightens her legs out beneath the sheets. "You made pancakes."

"I did," he nods. "New Year's Day, Beckett. We can indulge."

"I love you," she says as she takes the tray, freeing up his hands so he can make himself comfortable in their bed.

He plumps up some of the pillows and leans back against them, enough space for Kate to set the tray down between their thighs. She goes for her coffee first, like always, and she blows on the surface before she sips. Castle plucks a strawberry from the bowl with his fingers and pops it into his mouth, chewing slowly.

They eat mostly in silence, chattering here and there about the plans they knew their friends back in the city had last night. Castle is concerned about Alexis still, but Kate assures him that his mother will take care of his baby girl through her suffering this morning.

"I still feel bad for making you miss her first hangover."

"Hey, no," he says. He sets his mug down on the nightstand and shifts in the bed to face her a little more, takes her free hand in his. "Nothing for you to feel bad for. That night was so incredible, Kate. And I do regret not picking up, but I'm not sure I'd change anything even if I could. I would still choose you."

She doesn't look too happy about it, her eyes firmly on the mug in her hand. He gives her a minute to figure it out, and eventually she lifts her gaze to meet his. "I don't think I want you to choose me. Not over Alexis. Not when she needs you."

"You needed me too," he says quietly, firmly. He doesn't carry any guilt for this, not anymore. His daughter was fine, but if he had left Kate that night to rescue Alexis. . .that wouldn't have been fine. That could have ruined everything.

"Castle, I've never ever wanted to come between you two. I know that she- what you guys have is something I'm never going to truly be a part of, and I'm okay with that."

He takes the mug from Kate's hands and sets it down next to his own, moves the half-empty tray out of the way as well. It frees him up to wrap his arms around her and he does just that, draws her in to snuggle with him.

"Katherine," he starts, and she laughs. "You are my wife. My partner. And yes, my daughter is one of the two most important things in my life, but she shares that title with you. So sometimes I am going to have to choose."

"But-"

He kisses her forehead to quiet her, his finger tucked underneath the bottom of her pajama shirt and stroking at bare skin.

"I know. You want me to always choose her, because you're amazing, and selfless. But Alexis is branching out into the world now, and I hope that someday she's going to have someone who will love her as much as I love you. She doesn't need me as much as she used to, but I like to think that you. . ."

He trails off, suddenly uncertain of himself, and Kate rises up on her knees to see him. Both hands come to his chest, her thumbs circling. "I need you. I do. I get what you're saying Castle. I just don't want to give her reason to hate me."

"She loves you, Beckett."

This insecurity when it comes to his daughter has always worried him. It's probably partly on him; he did, after all, accidentally tell Beckett that Alexis hates her, way back when his daughter first found out about them. She didn't mean it, not even then, but he knows Kate must still carry it around with her.

"I love her too," she says quietly, and his heart twists in his chest.

They're probably never going to agree on this, so he lets it go and passes Kate's mug back to her, sets the tray down in his lap so they can finish their breakfast. She stays pressed close against his side now, and he feels the work of her jaw against his bicep as she chews.

It's a small thing, a silly thing, but it makes him smile as they finish eating in comfortable silence. Once they're done he darts into the kitchen for just a moment to put the dirty dishes out of their way.

When he comes back to the bedroom Kate is cross-legged on top of the sheets and she pats the mattress next to her. He goes to sit, and she takes one of his hands in both of hers. "What do you want to do today? New Year's Day."

"I'd like to go for a walk in the woods, as long as our grizzly friend isn't around."

"He's a black bear, not a grizzly bear," she says. She's laughing though, shaking her head at him, and he smiles right back.

Kate looks tired, purple shadows bruising beneath her eyes, and he makes a mental note to persuade her to nap with him later. She's still got his hand and she traces the lines of his knuckles, flirts with the soft underneath of his wrist.

"We've got your mom's pie to make too," he reminds her. "And I'd like to spend a lot of time cuddling and watching movies."

"Okay," she laughs.

He waits for her to say something else, and when she doesn't he leans in and kisses her, warm coffee mouth and her hands in his hair. When he breaks away Kate leans back against the headboard and closes her eyes, and he kisses her forehead.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower, and then we can go out into the snow?"

"Yeah. I wanna shower too."

Her words are getting all jumbled together, like beads threaded onto a too-short string, and he tucks her hair back of her face and kisses her cheek. Leaving her sleepy in the bed like this has him overwhelmed with tenderness, and for a moment he just stands and watches her.

It always makes her grouchy when he stares, so he heads for the bathroom and closes the door. He uses the toilet and spends a moment scrutinising himself in the mirror. He's turning forty six this year, which alarms him, but there's no grey creeping in at his temples yet.

He looks pretty good. Kate keeps him young; she is so stunning that he works harder than he ever has to be in shape and to be groomed, to not look out of place when they walk hand in hand together.

In the shower the warm water pours over his head and he scrubs his hands over his face, trying to wake himself up a bit. His lotion-jelly thing is fresh and full of lime oil, according to the witty little description on the tub. The moment the suds hit the shower floor the whole stall erupts with the fresh scent and he breathes deeply, lets it soak into him.

His hair feels a little long when he rakes his hands through it. He usually likes to get it cut near the beginning of each month, and if he lets it get longer than this it'll start to look ridiculous. Kate likes it though, likes to sift her fingers through the long strands at the front, rub her thumb against the shorter cut at his ears.

When he gets out of the shower he's quick to scrub the towel over himself and wrap it around his hips, tucking in the ends. He brushes his teeth again, rubs his hand over his jaw and decides he doesn't need to shave again today.

Back in the bedroom, Kate is curled up small against the headboard, her mouth open as she sleeps. He gets dressed as quietly as he can, holds his breath every time he has to open or close one of the dresser drawers.

Once he's done he debates for a moment, but she won't want to waste her morning sleeping. It's her favourite time of day. He moves to sit at her hip and he brushes his fingers over her cheek.

"Kate. Wake up, sweetheart. Time to wake up."

"Castle?" she mumbles. Her eyes peel slowly open and she blinks a couple of times before she focuses on his face. Another couple of seconds, and then she registers that it's him and a smile blooms at her lips. "Hi."

"Hey, sleepyhead," he says, feeling the goofy adoration all over his face but completely unable to put a leash on it.

Kate rolls onto her back and shifts until she's half upright, propped against the headboard. "Sorry. Didn't mean to fall asleep."

"That's okay. You must have needed it. I just didn't want you to be grouchy because you slept away your morning."

"Thanks," she laughs. He waits, knows what's coming, and sure enough. "Will you climb in. Cuddle for a bit."

His wife always likes to snuggle while she wades her way into consciousness. It doesn't take her very long to be hyper alert, and most days he sleeps right through it, sacked out in his stomach in their bed. Sometimes though, when he's very lucky, she asks.

Castle climbs right into bed and wraps both arms around her, lets her wriggle until she's comfortable against his chest. He brushes the hair away from her neck so that he can lay a palm to that warm skin, his thumb resting over the thump of her pulse in her neck.

His lips linger at her forehead, little kisses every now and then, and she scrubs her face against the material of his plaid shirt. "I need to take a shower. Did you leave me any water?"

"I think so. I didn't linger very long."

"Thanks," she says, but she makes no move to get up just yet.

He's in no rush, especially today. The warm, sleepy weight of his wife all curled up on his chest makes him so happy. He'd be content to stay here all day, but Kate gets restless if she's not doing something. Sure enough, after another couple of minutes she heaves herself upright and climbs out of bed, heads for the bathroom.

He busies himself with cleaning up their room a little bit. The heater gets turned off and he tucks it out of the way against the wall, straightens the sheets until the bed looks perfect and inviting.

Their clothes from yesterday are still dumped all over the floor and he picks everything up, puts half of it in the laundry pile and everything that's still clean away in its proper home. Satisfied that their room is neat again, he heads for the kitchen and starts to wash their breakfast things.

Suds up to his elbows at the sink, he hears the blowdryer come on and he smiles. His phone is plugged in to the speaker jack again and he hums along as he washes everything and rinses off the bubbles, stacks it all up on the drying rack.

Rick dries his hands on a dishtowel and glances around for some other way to make himself useful. Everything looks neat and orderly, and there doesn't seem much point lighting a fire when they're about to head outside and enjoy the snow.

He straightens the pillows on the couch, shifts the coffee table half an inch to the left and then moves it back again. Eventually he has to give up, and he heads for the bedroom to find his wife.

She's just finishing getting dressed, her hair still a little damp and curling around her ears. Castle settles himself on the end of the bed to watch her, fascinated as always by the way she puts herself together. Somehow, always, casual and gorgeous.

"I'm more awake now," she says, laughing at herself. She inspects herself in the mirror over the dresser and then she turns to face him, comes to stand between his knees. Her arms drape over his shoulders and she smiles down at him, presses her lips together as if to contain it.

Castle sags forwards and buries his face in the warmth of Kate's sweater at her stomach. Her hand comes to the back of his head and he breathes in the shower scent of her, sweet and girlish and really not like her at all. After a moment she tugs on his ear and he lifts his head to see her again.

"Come on. I want to build a snowman with you." He opens his mouth to sing and she immediately covers his lips with her palm, frowning at him. "No _Frozen_. Not at this time in the morning."

"It's almost eleven," he laughs, but he doesn't sing to her. Instead he lets her haul him to his feet and he wraps both arms around her in a tight hug, lifts her off her feet.

Only for a second, because she's not a big fan of dangling awkwardly in the air, and when he sets her down she tucks her hands into the back pockets of his jeans and squeezes.

"Come on. Hurry up. Get your coat on."

"Our kids are going to be so impatient," he laughs.

It makes her pout and he rolls his eyes at her, but he does as he's told and heads to the closet to rummage inside for his coat. Kate is at his back, reaching around him for her own jacket, and once she's got it shrugged on he fists his hands in her lapels and draws her in for a kiss.

"Not a bad thing, Beckett. I can't wait to meet them."


	17. Chapter 17

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

"I should have brought sturdier shoes," Castle grumbles.

They're barely four yards away from the cabin, and Kate sighs and turns her face away. He's a gloomy presence at her side, shuffling his feet through the snow, and she stops walking.

"Do you want to go back inside?"

"No point now." He shrugs, and glances down at his own shoes. "My feet are already soaked. And freezing."

She's wrapped up warm, two pairs of socks on inside her shiny rubber boots and four or five layers insulating her organs from the day. The cloud cover from last night has long burned away, and the sun is low in the sky and beating down over them; already she's a little sweaty.

They're almost at the tree line now. Castle is a couple of steps behind, his feet squelching as he walks, and Kate waits next to a regal fir until he reaches her side. When he does, she slides her hand into his and curls her fingers, steps in time with him.

"You know, I didn't think these woods could get any more beautiful."

"Yeah," she agrees. The branches over their heads bow with the weight of the snowfall so that the trees look mournful, scores of dark widows watching them pass by.

A good four inches fell overnight, and the path that cuts through the forest is completely invisible to them now. She knows it well enough that she's fairly sure they're on track, but she keeps a tight hold of Castle just in case. The whole world is hushed, everything hunkered down close to the earth to shelter from the blanket of snowfall.

Every New Year's that Kate and her parents have ever spent at the cabin, they've done this. When she was very little she would skip ahead, charging through the woods with the bright red scarf her grandmother knitted rippling out away from her neck like a kite tail. It never seemed to matter whether it had snowed or not, their family walk on the first day of the year was always magical.

When Kate was older, she would walk a little ways behind her parents with her earbuds in her ears. Pretending to be too cool for their tradition, even though she was often listening to the kind of haunting music that goes so perfectly with the woods.

Sharing it with her husband now is strange, like taking a walk outside of time, but she's glad for it. "Hey. I'm really happy we made it up here."

"Me too," he says back. "After all the promises we made the last time we were here to come back soon, it took us way too long."

"Shall we aim to come back in the summer?"

He's silent for a moment and she swallows, tucks her chin down closer inside her scarf. When he does speak, his words are pitched low as if he's afraid the boom of his voice might disturb the silent earth. "I was kind of hoping to take you to the Maldives this summer. I know the ranch was fun, but I still want the honeymoon that we planned."

"It's gonna take me a while to build up three weeks' worth of vacation time," she says apologetically. The handful of days they spent at the ranch out west had been fun, sure. But they'd been so looking forward to their private island, to stretching out on the sand together. "So maybe. . .how about we aim to go to the Maldives for our anniversary? Maybe for our second."

"Wow," he breathes. "I can't imagine being married to you for two years. And at the same time, it already feels like we have been."

It makes her laugh, but she doesn't disagree. Kate squeezes his fingers in hers and ducks her head out of the way of a particularly low branch, careful not to knock against the trunk of the tree and send the snow cascading down over them both.

"Yeah. I just think we should hold on to that for a while, you know?"

"Of course," he says easily.

Castle never wears a hat and the tips of his ears are pink where the cold has nibbled at them. His face is round and pale like a wise moon, but there are twin spots of colour high up in his cheeks and the very tip of his nose is flushed with cold as well.

"But honey, we're not gonna be able to have three weeks in the Maldives once the little ones are here. So we can't leave it too long."

She asked him to shelve it, and she knows that he's trying, but it's like being here is making it that much easier for him to picture their life five years from now, the family they'll make together. It's not like she's not thinking about it too, admiring the nook beside the dining table that's just the perfect spot for a high chair.

"Right. Well, I still think this summer is too soon for that. So I'd like to come back here. Maybe with Alexis and Martha too, my dad?"

Castle wrinkles his nose at that, pushes his free hand down into the depth of his coat pocket. "Alexis will almost definitely want to join us. I'm just not convinced that anything about this place will be enticing to Mother."

"We can at least ask her though."

"Of course," he says. Castle brings them to a stop with a small tug on her arm, and when she turns to face him he steps in close. Behind her husband, Kate catches sight of a single squirrel perched on a branch to watch them, a nut clutched against his chubby belly and his muzzle twitching.

Castle follows her gaze and turns to see what she's looking at, grinning when he catches sight of the little guy. For a moment they're frozen, the three of them the only ones awake in the whole of the woods, and then he scampers higher up the tree.

Once the squirrel is out of sight Rick turns back to face her and he slides a hand around her shoulders, settles it between the wings of her shoulder blades. "I love how you love our family."

"I feel really lucky to have them."

He kisses her then, his lips cool but his tongue warm when the very tip darts out to tease. Kate shifts closer to her husband, their thighs brushing through the fabric of their jeans, and she winds both arms around his neck. Her gloves make her a little clumsy, so she leaves her thick fingers resting against the back of his head.

They break apart eventually and Castle reaches for her hand again, starts them walking. She's not sure how much longer it is, but after a while they come across the stream. It cuts through the woods like a dark seam in the snow, ink flowing, and they come to a stop to take it in.

"I definitely don't want to jump from the falls today."

"Not a smart idea," she laughs. A part of her wants to wade into the stream and splash around in her rubber boots, but she doesn't want to leave Castle on the shoreline in his sneakers. Instead, she squeezes his hand in hers. "Wanna head back to the cabin now?"

He agrees easily and they start walking again. Doubling back on themselves, they can see the winding crooked-step of their twin footprints and Kate entertains herself, landing each of her footfalls in one of her husband's comically giant prints.

She has to let go of his hand because she's so much slower like this. He walks ahead, turning back every so often to laugh at the furrowed concentration of her face. She's got her bottom lip caught between her teeth; his strides are long, and sometimes she has to hop to get from one footprint to the next.

"You're cute," he says, walking backwards down the path now so that he can watch her. Kate keeps an eye out, ready to steer him away from any obstacles, but he's turning to look over his shoulder every three seconds anyway.

"I always did this when I was a kid. Sometimes my dad had to hold my hands and lift me from one shoe print to the next, because his stride length was so much bigger than mine."

Castle nods, both hands pushed down into the pockets of his coat. His shoulders are up around his ears as if to warm them, but he's smiling. "Alexis and I did that too. Her feet were so tiny, Kate. I remember when she was born, I couldn't quite believe how small she was."

He's so smitten with his daughter that Kate gives up on her endeavour and strides to catch up with him, hooking her arm through his when she reaches him again. She lays her cheek to his shoulder, but it's awkward while they're both walking and she has to straighten up again.

Eventually there's a break in the tree line, and then the cabin looms into view. It looks like a photograph like this, the snow on the roof and along the top of the balustrade at the porch. Only a warm glow in the windows and smoke curling from the mouth of the chimney could make it more inviting.

They jog up the steps together and Kate opens the door, toeing out of her rubber boots before she steps over the threshold and carrying them inside with her. She heads for the fireplace and sets her shoes down on the hearth so that they'll dry.

It doesn't take her long to get the fire going, and Castle comes back with his sneakers and his wet socks in hand. There's a mesh fireguard to stop sparks from spitting out of the fireplace and she slides it into place, drapes the socks over the top so that they can dry.

Kate balls up newspaper and stuffs it down inside of Castle's sneakers to soak up some of the water, sets them close enough to the fire that they'll benefit from the heat. Satisfied that everything's drying, she gets to her feet again and pulls off her coat and hat, unwinds her scarf.

Dumping everything in the armchair on top of Castle's, she heads for the kitchen to get a glass of water. Her husband comes back from the bathroom and she turns her face towards the kiss he dusts against her cheek, spins around to lean back against the countertop and see him.

"Want a drink?"

"I'll get it," he says. He pours his own water from the glass bottle with the rubber stopper that her father keeps in the refrigerator door and he comes to stand beside her.

He's pulled on fresh socks, changed his pants as well because the bottom couple of inches had gotten wet with the snow. He looks fresh and cosy and Kate sets her water glass down, stepping in to wind her arms around him in a sideways hug.

His lips form a kiss at the top of her head, and he puts his drink down so that he can hug her back. "Good walk."

"Good walk," she agrees. "I gotta use the bathroom."

After she goes she washes her hands, the warm water from the faucet almost scalding over her still-frozen skin. It makes her hiss a breath through her teeth and she shifts from foot to foot as she rinses off the soap, so glad to pull her hands out of the stream.

Back out in the living room Castle has made himself a nest on the couch with a couple of blankets, and at the sound of her footfalls he twists to see her approaching. "Hey. I figured we could just be lazy for a bit, and then we can put the pie on to cook. Your dad has a crockpot here right?"

"He does," she confirms. Kate sinks to sit on the couch at Castle's side and she curls up, rests her head against his chest. "When he goes out fishing all day he likes to have a warm stew waiting for him when he comes home."

"Awesome."

Castle is so warm beneath her that she has to poke her feet out from under the blanket he's covered them with. She hooks her toes in the top of her sock and tugs it awkwardly off her foot, finds it much easier the second time with the added dexterity of her now-bare toes.

"Do you mind if I grab my book?"

"Not at all," he says, nudging his shoulder beneath her to help her get herself upright. "Actually, I might get my laptop and try and get some writing done."

She nods, struggling her way off of the couch. Kate pads through to their bedroom to collect her novel from the nightstand, brings her phone back with her as well. The signal is actually pretty strong at the cabin, and her phone has three bars and a few notifications on the screen.

Mostly text messages, because she turned off her data when they got here. She moves slowly back to the couch, head bent over her cell phone to read through her messages and the book tucked up underneath her arm.

"Got a text from Espo," Kate says as she sinks to sit beside her husband. "He says he was at the Ryans' place last night. Look."

There's a goofy picture of Esposito cuddling with Sarah Grace, their niece's blonde hair pinned back with a sparkly barrette, and a wide smile turned up towards Uncle Javi.

"I can't believe how big she's getting," Castle says. He takes the phone from Kate for a better look and she props her chin at his shoulder, strokes absent-minded fingertips over the back of his wrist.

He passes her phone back and she saves the picture to her camera roll, carries on checking her messages. "Happy New Year text from Aunt Theresa."

"Please text her back with emphasis on me wishing her a truly wonderful New Year."

"She doesn't still hate you, babe," Kate laughs. Back when they were engaged and her aunt had been posting to Facebook about Castle having cheated on her precious baby niece, it had taken Kate weeks to convince her that it was all a misunderstanding, and that Castle is a wonderful guy.

The two of them, Rick and Theresa, have met exactly once. Kate's aunt came to the city to visit her brother, Beckett's dad, and Kate had dragged her reluctant fiancé over for family dinner. It went okay; Castle had cranked up his usual charm a hundred notches. Kate had been sad to see him trying so hard though, wished that he could just relax.

"Even so. I don't want to get on her bad side."

Kate types out a response to Aunt Theresa's message, thanking her for her well wishes. She writes out a pretty lengthy paragraph, explaining that she and Rick are upstate at the cabin and having a lovely time, that it started to snow at almost exactly midnight.

"How's that?" she asks, turning her phone around to show her husband the message. He nods his approval and she sends it, locks her phone.

Wriggling down the couch, Kate steals a couple of pillows and props herself up against the arm, her body stretched out along the length of the cushions. Her feet wind up in Castle's lap and she drums her heels against his thigh as she gets comfortable.

He's got his laptop balanced at his knees. Hunched over it like this, his shoulders are going to make him pay later, but she'll be delighted to massage those knots out of his muscles. "How's the book doing? You get a Christmas spike in sales?"

"Same as every year," he nods. "And me being missing did kind of help drum up publicity. I still feel weird about the acknowledgements though."

"I loved them," she says firmly.

The book had been released after Castle had been found, but it had gone to print while he was still missing. She had read the acknowledgements with him sleeping beside her in their bed, remembered letting the junior editor from Black Pawn into the loft to rummage through Castle's things.

Kate had kept careful watch over the skinny guy's every move, holding her breath as he sifted through the piles of notes on her fiancé's desk. He'd found some things and jotted them down, but she hadn't been brave enough to look. Hadn't seen any of it until she had a hardback copy of the book in her hands and Castle safety back in their bed.

His muse, his inspiration, and his life. He wrote that down in his Moleskine, wanted to share that sentiment with the whole world. When she first read it she had cried, hot tears pouring ceaselessly down her cheeks, and she had covered her mouth with her palm so the sobs wouldn't wake him.

"You can just look at the joint account to see how it's selling," he teases. They have a shared bank account now, that they both pay into every month.

Truthfully, most of Kate's pay check goes into it. Castle pays the rent on the loft and the bills, had been absolutely resolute when she offered to chip in. She always knew that she wasn't going to be able to fund his lifestyle, that she wouldn't be able to contribute an equal share. It doesn't bother him, so she tries very hard not to let it bother her.

Their joint account they use for grocery shopping and for date nights, for things for their home like those new plates she bought a few weeks ago. Castle keeps putting his Nikki Heat money in there, telling her that it's only fair because he's been aping every word that comes out of her mouth for nearly six years, and so now she's stopped looking at the terrifying numbers altogether.

"You know that freaks me out."

"Come on," he huffs. "You're not exactly unused to money, Beckett. Your family owns this place. And I've seen your closet."

She rolls her eyes and pushes her toes hard against the inside of his thigh. "Not the same as being a multimillionaire."

"Well, you're a millionaire now too sweetie. What's mine is yours."

Talking about money has always made her extremely uncomfortable, even when she was a little kid. She kicks out at his thigh to shut him up and he wraps his hand around her foot and squeezes, holds her still. Cracking open her book, Kate skims through until she finds her place again. He interrupted her the last time she was reading, so she has to reread the previous few paragraphs to find her place in the story again.

At the other end of the couch Castle starts to type, and she lets it lull her as she sinks further down into the couch and falls into the world of her novel. Her husband is just starting to actually write the next Nikki Heat book now. He usually gives himself some time off from writing after a book is released, unless some fantastic idea strikes him.

Towards the end of October, he gets serious about plotting and sticky notes spring up all over the house with ideas on them, random character profiles tacked to the door of the refrigerator. She's always careful not to look, doesn't want to spoil that first reading for herself, but he makes it difficult with major plot points stuck to the mirror in their bathroom.

He starts sketching out his characters next, writing profiles for his killer and the other people involved in the plot of the novel. She can always tell when he's figuring out Nikki and Rook's relationship, because he gets extra clingy.

They've finally overtaken their fictional counterparts, and it makes her sad that the on-the-page versions of her and Castle can't seem to really figure it out.

Kate reads for quite a while, her bare foot getting sweaty in the grip of Castle's hand. Eventually she has to tug free from him and draw her knees up so that she can prop the book against her thighs, her arms aching with holding it up.

Every so often, she glances up to see the frown like a child's scribble across Castle's forehead, the furious way he stabs at the backspace key when it's not quite going the way that he wants. He's adorable, and she keeps getting thoroughly sidetracked watching him, has to make a concentrated effort to wade back into the story.

When she next checks the time on her phone, she's startled to see that over an hour has passed since they got back from their walk in the woods. She hasn't made nearly enough progress with the book to show for it, but her heart feels light.

"You ready for some lunch?" she asks.

He's totally focused on his laptop screen. His eyes are narrowed and she sighs, creates a reminder on her phone to book him an appointment with the optician. He keeps grumbling at her and insisting he's not old enough yet to need reading glasses, but maybe if she tells him how very sexy the idea of him in glasses is to her he might give in.

She gives him another minute or so, calls his name softly again, and he hits the keyboard shortcut to save his document and looks over at her. "Sorry. What?"

"Hungry?"

"Ooh, yes," he says. He glances back to his screen, and she watches him debate for about half a second before he has to add something else. Kate closes her book and sets it down on the end table, draws her legs up and folds them beneath herself as she waits for him to finish.

Eventually, he saves again and closes his laptop this time, moves it to the coffee table. "Yes. I'm hungry. And we should make the pie too, while we're in the kitchen."

"Lunch first, then pie?"

"Sure," he says as he gets up from the couch. He offers a hand to her and she takes it, lets him pull her to her feet. The momentum carries her right into him and she goes easily, winding her arms around his neck and lifting up on tiptoe to kiss him.

Castle's hands come to her butt and he squeezes, makes her break away from his mouth to smile. "Mm. Feed me first."

"We had a pretty big breakfast, and we gotta save room for the pie."

"What are you saying, I'm not allowed lunch?"

She manages to maintain the blankness of her face for a handful of seconds, but the absolute panic that washes over her husband has her cracking up and she shakes her head, striding away from him and towards the kitchen.

"I feel like cheese and crackers. Sound good?"

"Sounds great," he says from right beside her.

Before she can reach into the refrigerator to find the cheese, Castle closes the door and spins her around in one fluid motion, backing her up against it. He steps in close, his legs wide to accommodate hers, and he dips down to kiss her.

His tongue is hot and insistent through her mouth and she moans low in her throat, arches into him. It lets him get his hands beneath her and he strokes over the base of her spine. "How's your back? Still sore?"

"It's fine now," she says. Her breath is mostly absent, her whole body crackling with awareness, and she rocks against him, predatory and lazy all at once. "I'm fine. Doesn't hurt. Don't stop kissing me."

"I thought you wanted lunch first?"

She tugs on his ears to bring him back down to her, one arm sliding around his neck as she bites at his lips. It's so good every time, but she feels it with a desperate urgency today and she pushes on him, walks him backwards. He meets the kitchen counter and Kate spins them around and hoists herself up to sit on the countertop.

Her legs hook over his hips and she draws him in, her spine taut so that her breasts crush against his chest. Castle plants his hands either side of her hips and bows over her, eases her carefully down until she's lying flat on the counter and his body presses hard against hers.


	18. Chapter 18

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

"Now I'm really starving," she says. They ended up on the kitchen floor, and her husband's sweaty torso is draped over hers and sticking.

Castle lifts his head from the crook of her neck and grins, his fluffy hair falling down over his forehead and his smile lopsided. After the counter she slid right off and they landed here on the hardwood. Her butt is still bruised and it protests now.

"Worth it," Castle says. He leans in to kiss her again, a fast swipe of his tongue through her mouth, and then he rolls to the side of her and sprawls naked on his back. "Do you think your dad knows what we do when we're here?"

"I think he probably avoids thinking about it. Or at least I hope."

Castle makes a gruff sound of agreement and scrubs a hand over his face, his nakedness distracting and amusing her in equal measure. "He probably thinks the way I do about Alexis. No sex before marriage, and then missionary once a week."

"Oh jeez," Kate laughs. Her hands feel disconnected, her wrists worn thin as wire, but she manages to lift one to her face and rest it against the heat of embarrassment in her cheeks. "I'm pretty sure my dad doesn't put any thought into our favoured positions. And why are you thinking that way about your daughter?"

"I'm not," he squawks. "Just. Ugh. You're twisting my words."

Kate takes pity on him and shifts closer, kisses the curve of his shoulder. His body is so warm next to her and she almost wants to tuck herself in close, but they are still on the kitchen floor in a pile of clothing. "Sorry baby. Come on. Let's get dressed and get food."

She pulls her clothes back on lazily, stays laying down to do it. Worming her way back into her jeans is a challenge and she has to lift her hips, twisting to wriggle her way into the denim. When she's done she collapses back to the floor, topless and panting.

Castle passes her her bra and she hooks it on, fishes her sweater from underneath herself to pull that back on as well. Once she's dressed she gets to her feet, has to plant her hands at the counter and haul herself upright.

While her husband finishes dressing, Kate looks out the cheese from the refrigerator and finds a sleeve of unopened crackers in the cabinet. They've got some grapes left too and she rinses them at the sink, puts them in a bowl still attached to the vine.

Two warm palms come to her hips and Castle draws her back against his chest, kisses the milky skin of her neck. His lips are gentle, a little dry, and Kate rests her head back against his shoulder and lets him do whatever he wants.

"Do you want butter for the crackers?" he says, mouth still at her skin.

It makes her shiver, and she needs a second to understand what he's asking before she can formulate an answer. "Mm. Yes. They'll be dry."

Castle reaches around her to tug the refrigerator open and pull the butter out, set it down on the countertop. His free hand is splayed at her stomach, fingers splayed wide so that his thumb is between her breasts and the tip of his pinky tucks underneath the waistband of her jeans.

"Do you know how sexy you are?"

"I'm just standing here," she says. Kate knocks her temple into his jaw and twists out of his grip, takes a couple steps away from him. "Not that you're not sexy too. Just- my hair is a mess and I'm wearing a huge sweater."

Castle arches a brow and comes slowly towards her, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants like a promise not to touch. "Yes. But your hair is a mess because of what we just did, and I know what's underneath your huge sweater. I want you all the time, Beckett."

"Me too," she assures him. It's not that it ever went away, of course not, but since they got married it's been a constant, gnawing need in her guts. She aches to have him. "Remember when I was worried we'd get boring once we were married?"

"Yes," he says on a laugh. "Adorable. And deluded. Please, Kate. We were always going to be amazing."

She's blushing, and it takes a concentrated effort not to arch her hips into the scant space he's left between their bodies. She really is hungry though, and she wants to refuel before they let themselves get carried away again.

Kate steps in close to kiss him in response, her lips at the corner of his mouth and a hand at his jaw to keep him in place. He tastes good, like winter musk, and she lingers for a moment before she breaks away from him again.

"If you can slice some cheese, I'll butter the crackers."

"Sure," he says. He comes to stand beside her and rummages in one of the cabinet drawers for a knife, starts to carve neat slices of cheese from the block. Kate scrapes some butter from the plastic container and spreads it over the surface of the crackers as neatly as she can.

It's not easy; they're pocked with moon-craters that clumps of butter keep getting clogged in, and she has to fish them out with the tip of the knife. Once she's done she arranges the slices of cheese on top of the crackers and carries the plate and the bowl of grapes over to the living room.

Castle is right behind her with two tall glasses of water and they put everything down on the coffee table, sinking to sit on the floor and lean back against the couch. Kate reaches behind herself for a pillow to put underneath her butt and she stretches her legs out beneath the table.

Echoing her, Castle lifts one of his bare feet so that they can see it on the other side of the coffee table, and he wiggles his toes at her in greeting. She scoots across the floor a little ways until her bicep meets his and she hooks her arm through his. It means that she has to switch and eat with her left, but it's only crackers and she doesn't mind a bit.

In between mouthfuls, he drops lazy kisses to her temple and the crown of her head. They're mostly silent as they eat, the fire's crackling chatter filling the space of the cabin for them. Castle plucks grapes from the vine and offers them to her, and with each one she darts out her tongue to touch his fingertip, scrapes her teeth very lightly over his skin.

When they're done he wraps his arm around her shoulders instead and lays his head against hers. "I am so happy."

"I'm happy too," she says. Her smile is slow spreading, but it blooms wide and she closes her eyes, hunkers down into her husband's embrace.

They stay on the floor for a little while longer, and then Castle heaves himself to his feet and brings her up with him. He leaves their glasses, but he collects the plate and the bowl from their lunch and brings them back to the kitchen to dump in the sink and deal with later.

"Okay," he rubs his hands together. "Do you remember the recipe?"

"Not exactly. But it's in one of the recipe books. Hold on."

Kate opens one of the high cabinets and eases free the recipe book her mother nurtured from when Kate was a tiny girl. It's one of those blank ones you can fill in yourself, and it's teeming with all of her mother's best loved creations.

Various addenda have been added over the years, and so there are taped down pieces of lined paper that flap as Kate turns the pages. Her mother liked to add photographs too, said she thought it made the book look nicer.

As she thumbs through the pages Castle watches with his chin propped at her shoulder. In the dessert section his hand falls to cover hers and still her, and he takes the recipe book right out of her hands. "Oh my gosh. Look how cute you are."

The recipe is for a birthday cake. Stuck to the top of the page is a polaroid of Kate on her sixth birthday with the cake in front of her on the table. Her front two teeth are missing and her hair is in pigtails, a party hat at a jaunty angle on top of her head.

"I see you liked your turtlenecks even then," Castle teases.

She takes the recipe book back from him and puts it down on the counter so that they can both look. His arms come around her from behind and he kisses the top of her ear, sweeps her hair to the side so that it isn't tickling her.

"Man you're adorable. Little Katie Beckett."

"Stop," she huffs, knocking her head against him.

It only makes him laugh, but he lets her carry on turning the pages until she finds the pie recipe that they're looking for. "Okay, I'll get the ingredients if you can preheat the oven and find a skillet?"

They work easily together to make the filling for their pie. Using the crockpot makes everything so much easier, and Kate cranks the music up high and sways in front of the stove as she fries up some onions and crushed garlic.

Most of the ingredients just get chopped up and dumped into the pot still raw. The sauce is the trickiest part, and she captures her lip between her teeth as she adds the cornflour to thicken it. She's successful, and she grins widely at Castle and pours the sauce into the pot. Rick puts the lid on and they clear away the mess they've made, wiping down the countertops.

"I think it's my turn to clean the dishes again," Kate says. She eases her rings off and sets them safely down in the little bathtub on the windowsill, pouring dish soap into the stream of the faucet and agitating the water to make bubbles erupt into life.

Outside the window, the snow is already run with various tracks and she lifts up on tiptoe to see better. There's a pair of robins scavenging for their next meal, chests puffed up proudly as they take turns to peck through the covering of snow and down to the frozen ground.

She's so distracted by them that it takes her a long while to finish washing the dishes, but it hardly matters. Kate arranges everything on the rack beside the sink to dry, too lazy to dry them properly with a dishtowel. She dries her hands and shuts off the music, heads back to the living room in search of her husband.

"Hi," he says as she approaches. "Ryan texted me and asked to Skype. I can use my phone as a hotspot if you wanna do it."

"Isn't that expensive?" He lifts an eyebrow and stares her down and she nods, folding her arms. "Right. Uh, sure. Why not."

Kate heads back to the kitchen to unplug Castle's phone from the speaker jack and bring it to him. He's got his laptop open and balanced on his thighs, the Skype application pulled up but informing them that the homepage is unavailable.

While Castle gets the internet set up she snags the blanket from the back of the couch and wraps it around her shoulders, snuggling down into the fuzzy warmth. She can tell the moment his laptop connects because it starts pinging notifications at him and he groans, covers his eyes with a palm.

"I'm ignoring all of it. We're just Skyping for a little while, and then I'm going back off grid."

Ryan is already online and Castle clicks to start a video call, shifts his laptop to the coffee table. They have to sit forwards on the couch, his arms around her shoulders to get them both in the frame. After a moment the call connects and Kevin and Jenny appear on their screen, Sarah Grace in her daddy's lap.

She's only just starting to talk now, random words mostly, but when she sees them she claps her hands together and shrieks.

"Hi baby girl," Kate laughs. "I like your pretty dress."

"Hello Auntie Kate and Uncle Rick," Ryan says. His daughter's little fingers are curled around his index and he waves her hand at them, kisses the crown of her head. "Are you having a nice vacation?"

Castle's arm tightens around her shoulders and he beams. "We're having a great time, thank you. It's really nice to take the time to just relax."

"I miss relaxing," Jenny sighs. Sarah Grace's head turns towards the sound of her mother's voice and Jenny smiles at the baby. "Anyway, we don't want to interrupt you guys for too long, but _a leanbh_ wanted to ask you something."

The endearment makes Kate smile and she flicks a glance at her husband. He still hasn't quite got the pronunciation of the Irish words down, and the frustration on his face whenever he tries is just so boyishly adorable.

"Sure, what's up sweet girl?"

"Well, it's Sarah Grace's birthday on Tuesday, in case you forgot," Ryan says.

Kate has to hide her smile against the inside of Castle's arm, nuzzling against the warmth of his shirt while she's here. They definitely did not forget; before Christmas, they'd visited the toy store together and wandered hand in hand through the aisles to pick out Christmas and birthday gifts for their niece.

They've probably spoiled her a bit, if Kate's being honest, but it's nice. The baby makes them all so happy, sits like a knot at the heart of the little family they've made. Castle is really not very good at reigning himself in, especially in the toy department, and she didn't have the heart to nix any of the things he added to their cart and insisted that Sarah Grace just had to have.

"Ooh, that's exciting. Are you excited?" Castle is saying to their niece, his face overly animate.

The baby giggles and claps her hands again, grabbing hold of her own foot. She's wearing white knitted tights and she looks so cuddly that Kate's chest aches.

"She's very excited," Jenny says. "We're throwing a party on Saturday, and we know that's the day after you guys get back to the city, but shewould just love it if you could come. And Kev and I would too."

"Of course we can come," Kate blurts. Her eyes dart to Castle to check, but he's already smiling. He nods at her, and then he turns back to look at the laptop screen and his smile grows wider still.

Sarah Grace isn't paying attention to them anymore, too busy pulling on the toes of her tights to stretch them out away from her foot, but Ryan and Jenny are both looking at them. "Kate and I would love to come. We'll be there."

"That's fantastic," Jenny says. She clasps her hands together and presses them to her chest, her whole face open with delight. "It'll be at our apartment, and we're hoping to start around one o'clock."

"We'll see you then," Castle says.

Kate has a tendency to fall quiet in times like this, let her husband be the one to arrange their social calendar. It makes him happy to surround himself with people, and happier still to be hand in hand with her and get to introduce her as his wife. This is different; Ryan is family. Still, she finds herself quiet and tucked in close against Castle's side.

"Well, we'll let you guys get back to your vacation," Kevin is saying now. Kate lifts her head from where it's pillowed against her husband's arm, and she smiles widely when Sarah Grace turns her eyes to Beckett's again. "See you Saturday."

"See you Saturday," they say in unison, and the call disconnects.

Castle turns off the hotspot feature on his phone and closes his laptop. With his arm still around her shoulders he draws them both backwards to lean against the couch and he kisses the little folds of her neck, his breath making her shiver.

"I can't believe it's been a year already."

"I know," Kate murmurs. "She's gotten so big."

They shift on the couch to get comfortable, and she winds up sprawled inelegantly over Castle's chest. It's snug, and she lets the rise and fall of his body lull her. Eyes closed, and his fingers work through her hair and massage at the base of her skull.

"I'm still so glad it wasn't you," she whispers after a little while. "I don't mean to be selfish, but-"

"No, I know," he says. "I hadn't even gotten to marry you yet. That would have been so awful."

She feels heavy with melancholia, but Castle wraps his palm around the back of her neck and squeezes. He never lets her linger in misery for very long, and he taps a jolly rhythm up and down the knobs of her spine. She could fall asleep like this, another nap, but she doesn't want to waste their last full day at the cabin.

"We should do something." Kate sits up and pulls her legs up onto the couch, folds them beneath herself. She takes one of Castle's hands in both of hers, fascinated as always by the meat of his palm, his agile fingers. "Let's do something."

"We could build a snowman?" he suggests. "As long as you promise not to fly off to the North Pole without me."

It makes her laugh and she shakes her head, so full with tenderness that she could weep. "I wouldn't go without you babe, don't worry. But I think Santa is probably still catching up on his sleep anyway. He won't want visitors."

"Right," he laughs. "Yeah, okay. We can build a snowman. But first can we have sex? Please?"

He draws out the vowel sounds, batting his eyes at her like a little kid. It makes her snort and she pushes on his face, gets a nip to her palm. His tongue immediately darts out to soothe and his eyes are suddenly fathoms deep and intent on hers.

"Are your shoulders okay?" she asks. "You were pretty hunched over your laptop earlier, when you were writing."

"Now that you mention it they are kind of sore," he says, already catching on.

Kate presses her lips together and stands up from the couch, holding out a hand to Castle. She hauls him to his feet and they head for the bedroom together, fingers laced together and their clasped hands swinging. She's in front, and it reminds her of that very first night.

Leading him to his own bed, her hair damp and sticking to her cheeks. Flashes of lightning outside the windows of the loft that bathed his face in deep shadow, let her see only snatches of that desperate need. Him laying her down on the mattress, and her staggering disbelief that it was actually happening.

In the bedroom, she lets go of his hand and she busies herself drawing the blinds, lighting a few candles and one of the bedside lamps. "Take everything off for me please, Mr Castle."

"Yes ma'am."

He strips off all of his clothes and dumps them in a pile, closes the door. It makes the whole space feel suddenly intimate, and she gravitates towards him in the half-lit womb of their bedroom. Kate pushes gently on his shoulders to guide him and he lays on his stomach in the bed.

Draping a towel over his hips, Kate shucks her pants so that he'll be able to feel the silk insides of her thighs. She ducks out of the room for a second to grab the speakers and Castle's cell phone, brings them back to the bedroom with her.

He has a playlist on his phone for this and she starts it playing, turns the volume way down low and sets the speaker and the phone down on the dresser.

Satisfied, she climbs into bed and smoothly straddles her husband's hips. Her weight rests at his sacrum, the swell of his ass behind her, and he groans into the mattress. Already his hips are rocking, but she really does want to work out the tension in his shoulders before they go any further.

Kate pushes the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows and bows over her husband's back, her lips against his ear and her palms braced either side of his head. "Just relax, baby. Let me make you feel good."

"Oh God," he says. All of the breath support is gone from his words, and he sounds ragged and strung tight.

Straightening her spine a little more, Kate lets the ends of her hair drift over his skin as she sits up and his muscles twitch, the corner of his mouth tugging up. She knows what she's doing - he was the one to teach her - and she starts kneading the muscles of his shoulders.

Very gently at first, to let him relax into her touch. He makes these unconscious little noises, purrs that rumble in his chest. Sometimes she branches out further, travels up into his neck or lower down his spine. She can tell when she hits a particularly tense spot because he grunts and his hips twitch beneath her.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "I didn't think to bring any of the oils with me."

"S'okay," he slurs back. "Still feel good."

She nods, even though he can't see her, and she continues to work the knots out of his muscles. There's a spot just to the right of his spine, high up in his shoulder, that feels almost gritty. Kate works her thumb into that one knot, letting the weight of her body sit behind the pressure.

It makes him groan loudly and he reaches behind himself, lands a clumsy hand at her leg. His fingers dig into the meat of her thigh and Kate circles his wrist in her fingers and peels him away from her. "Relax, Rick. Just relax, concentrate on how it feels."

His eyes are closed, but his face is scrunched up. Kate removes her hands from his shoulders and lays a palm against his cheek, her thumb at the corner of his eye and drawing tiny circles. Leaning down, she lets him feel the warmth and the weight of her body on top of his, and she drops little kisses to the smooth spot just behind his ear.

"How are your shoulders?"

"Really good," he breathes. He turns his head into her touch and kisses the heel of her palm, his body loose and liquid beneath her again.

He tries to roll over and Kate scoots back, lifts up on her knees to give him room. Once he's on his back his eyes come open and he blinks lazily up at her. The towel is still between them and Kate supports her weight with a palm either side of his head, leaning down to kiss him.

It takes him a little while to figure himself out and kiss her back, but eventually his mouth opens to the touch of her tongue. Two clumsy hands come up and settle at her hips, fingers splayed to touch the top swell of her ass.

Kate nips at his lips, travelling across to his jaw and down. The flat of her tongue glides over his collar bone and he shivers, clutches tighter at her. She smiles against his skin, lets him feel the bloom of her happiness, and she lifts up to kiss his mouth again.

This time he's fearsome, dominant, and he pushes his tongue past the seam of her lips. His hands are roaming now, underneath her sweater and popping open the clasp of her bra with ease. An arm bands around her shoulders and he rolls them, his legs nestled between hers.

His weight pins her to the mattress now, his eyes a gathering storm as he stares down at her, and then he's kissing her again. The towel has gotten tangled around his thigh and it gets in the way when he tries to rock against her.

He grunts and he yanks to pull it free, and then it's tossed across the room and he's naked and rocking with her.


	19. Chapter 19

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

"I still want to build a snowman with you," he says. Kate is draped over him, sweaty body clinging everywhere their skins touch. Her smile is dopey and hidden half against the crease of his arm, and her hand is resting at his stomach.

He feels so good, his whole body loose and lazy. Castle yawns and pulls the blankets up over them a little further, tucking them close around their bodies. Kate hasn't said a word since she was rocking over him, but her fingertip is tracing a strip back and forth just below his navel now.

Her toes draw a line up his shin and she hooks her leg over his, kisses the smooth skin at his chest. "Mm. Yes, I wanna build. Don't let me fall asleep again."

Castle laughs, and he heaves them both upright. His wife's head lolls at his shoulder, heavy with drowsiness, and he kisses the sweaty crown of her head.

"Come on then. Up up up. Out you get, Beckett."

He pushes and she grumbles, but she gets a foot to the floor and she hauls herself out of their bed. Kate pads naked around the room to collect her clothes and pull them back on. After a moment just to watch her Rick gets himself off the mattress and does the same.

They pull on scarves and coats, gloves, and when they're both ready he takes her hand and walks with her to the French doors at the back of the cabin. The sun has already been gobbled up by the lake's hungry mouth, and as he and Kate make their way down the porch steps their moon shadows stretch out before them.

The cold is a coppery taste in his mouth and he runs his tongue over his teeth. Drawing Kate in for a kiss, he opens to the soft touch of her tongue until he tastes her, just Beckett, and the tip of his nose is warm at her cheek.

"I wanna make an angel," Kate says. She's up on the tips of her toes in eagerness, arms around his neck, and her smile is radiant.

The world is bright-dark and pristine still, almost a day later. In the city the roads would have been scraped raw by now, remade in salt and grit. Kate slides her arms down from around him, smoothing her gloved palms over his lapels as she goes.

She steps away from him, footprints comically large in her rubber boots, and he follows with his trunk curled around her tail. When she finds a good spot she sinks carefully down into the snow and lays back, peering up at him. Her limbs are starfished and she curls her fingers in beckoning.

Castle moves around to lie beside his wife, the span of his fingertips not quite touching hers. The cold seeps through his coat almost immediately, dampness along the entire back of his body. He has to grit his teeth to stop himself shivering.

They move their arms and legs back and forth through the snow to create the angel shape. The tips of his ears are almost touching the snow-covered ground and they ache, brittle enough to snap right off. He can see Kate's wide grin, the graceful slop of her nose and her thick lashes, and he's not about to get up.

After five more minutes there's a marble-hardness to his flesh, and his limbs will no longer bend or move. He gives up on his angel and lays on his back, curling his fingers inside his gloves. Kate gets to her feet very slowly, careful not to ruin her creation at the last moment.

She hops outside of the shape of the angel and stands smiling down at him and the impression of her own body in the snow. "Get up. See how it looks."

"Can't," he grunts. "Cold."

"Yes you can," she laughs. He gets to his knees, his limbs clumsy. Kate offers him a hand and he lets her haul him up to standing. The momentum topples him and he has to jump so that the scuff of his feet through the snow doesn't ruin his angel.

It very nearly sends them both back to the ground again, but he rights them with an arm banded tight around Kate's waist and a few staggering footsteps. She ends up tucked underneath him and he brings his other arm up, his hands wide at her back.

She turns until her back is pressed to his chest instead and he props his chin at her crown, both of them admiring their work. His angel is bigger than hers, goofy looking with the outline of his giant head. It makes him smile to see them together, the span of their wings almost touching.

Kate slides her hand into his and curls her fingers, stepping closer until her cheek meets his shoulder. He kisses her temple, the smooth skin before it disappears underneath her knitted beanie. "We did good."

"We did," she says. "When we get back inside, remind me to show you a picture."

"Sure."

They stand for a little while longer, his fingertips tapping rhythmlessly against the back of her hand. Kate tugs her cell phone out of her pocket and snaps a photograph of their two angels, shows it to him for his approval before she slips her phone back into her pocket again.

"Okay." He claps his hands together to work some feeling back into them. "Snowman time. Come on gorgeous."

"Castle," she huffs, knocking her head against him. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are already flushed, but that lovely pink crawls up the pale column of her neck.

Usually he lets her get off easily, lets her turn away and bite her lip to stop the giddy spread of her smile, but it matters right now in a way it hasn't really before. "I mean it, Kate. You're stunning all the time, but out here with snow all in your hair- I can't believe I got to marry you."

"I love you too," she says laughingly. He leans in to kiss her, accepting the urgent surge of her body and gripping her hips through her coat so that she doesn't topple them.

Her hot tongue slicks past the seam of his lips and he growls, opening to her. Kate's hands come to either side of his neck, the wool of her gloves tickling him. He takes a step forward to bow over her, a hand sliding down to her spine in support as he kisses her.

"Mm," she says when she breaks away from his mouth. "Babe. Snowman."

"Right." He sinks down to a squat in the snow and scoops up a handful, packing it together into a snowball shape. Kate is hovering behind him, her knees at his back, and he hooks a hand around her calf and squeezes. "Why don't you do the head and I'll do the body?"

She arches an eyebrow and him but she sinks down, starts forming her own snowball. He forgot how difficult it is to do this, and his back cries out in irritation as he rolls his snowball around to encourage it to grow. Every so often he has to stop and stretch, his palms braced against the base of his spine.

"You okay?" Kate teases from the ground. The head of the snowman is already a decent size, but the shape is a little off.

It sets him thinking and he reaches down to lay a palm against the back of Kate's shoulder. "Wait. I have an idea. What if we make Olaf?"

"Olaf?"

"Yeah," he says, already growing animated with the idea. "I bet it wouldn't be that hard. We can do it. We're a great team."

Kate is shaking her head at him, but she gets to her feet and steps in close. He's got his phone pulled free from his pocket and he turns his data back on, opens up his browser to find some referencing images. His wife has her arm curled around his, head dipped in close as they scroll through the image results.

He finds a picture of an actual snow-Olaf somebody has created and he pulls it up so they can see more clearly.

"It doesn't look too complicated. The head's gonna be the hardest part."

"We can do it," Kate says firmly. His enthusiasm has bubbled over into her and she bounces on her toes, her whole body humming with anticipation. "I think we've got the right sizes for the two stomach spheres, right?"

He assesses the two snowballs they've made and he nods. "Yep. Okay, so we need to make a base for the bigger ball and then we can shape it into the feet."

They work mostly in silence, following each other's wordless cues as they form a base for their snowman and arrange the bigger of the snowballs on top. Kate darts back inside the cabin for a moment and comes back with two kitchen knives, sinking to her knees in the snow.

Her pants must be soggy and uncomfortable, but her lip is caught between her teeth and her hair falls around her face as she concentrates. He lets her have the space to work, hopping from foot to foot to keep warm as Kate carves the shape of Olaf's feet.

When she's done she sits back on her heels and turns her face up towards him. He grins and settles his palm at the back of her head, his woollen thumb circling at her nape. "Great job honey. Do you think it's stable?"

"I think so." She nods, running her hands over the snowman again. "I packed in some snow at the seam between his feet and the body, so it should hold."

"Awesome," he says. The smaller of the snowballs is still on the ground at his feet and he bends to pick it up. Every time he does this he's surprised by just how heavy snow gets when it's all packed together, and he grunts as he lifts the ball.

He staggers, mostly for effect, and Kate cries out and leaps to her feet. "Don't you dare ruin my work."

"I'm just messing with you," he grins. He sets the snowball down carefully on top of Kate's creation, his hands hovering over it to make sure it's stable before he steps back. "Can't really put snow in the seams. Look at the picture, his stomach segments are supposed to be really defined."

"I think it's okay," Kate says. She walks a slow circle around their half-done snowman to assess him, and she comes back to Castle's side with a nod and a little smile. "He's good. Time for the head."

They stand together, heads meeting as they peer down at the reference picture on his phone. "I think if we make a smaller snowball, and then pack snow onto it to form the shape?"

He lets Kate take charge of forming the initial snowball, and once she's done and it's settled on top of Olaf's body he joins in to help her pack snow around the shape. The head is more of an oval than the rest of the snowman's segments, so Castle packs snow onto the top of the ball and Kate shaves snow off the sides to form the shape of his chin.

"The teeth," Kate wails, covering her eyes with a snowy palm. "Where do we start."

"By adding more than we need and then shaping it. Very carefully."

They work to shape Olaf's puffy cheeks and his wide, smiling mouth. When it comes time to make the teeth Kate silently hands him the knife, her lips pressed together. It makes him laugh and he darts in to kiss the seam of her mouth.

As he works sweat collects at his temples and his back with the effort of not ruining everything. He has to check the reference photograph every couple of seconds, but once he's done he steps back and winds his arms around Kate.

"Wow, Rick," she says. "A hidden talent."

He laughs and kisses her, their twin smiles clacking together. The finishing touches are easy enough to pull off. Kate finds a carrot in the refrigerator and Castle heads down to the lake in search of pebbles for the buttons on Olaf's stomach and his eyes.

In the woods, he sticks close to the tree line as he hunts for two twigs to act as arms. He breaks a tiny sliver off the end of each one to be the eyebrows. Once the whole thing is finished he takes a handful of steps backwards to get a proper look.

Pumping a fist in the air, he yelps like a coyote into the night because it feels as if they've pulled off the impossible. It makes Kate jump beside him but she laughs, almost doubled over with it. They both take a handful of pictures on their phones, cresting the wave of success for a little while.

Working in the snow for so long has made them both damp, and Kate starts to shiver at his side. Castle reaches for her hand and squeezes, brings her back inside the cabin with him. At the French doors they shed their wet things, and Kate pads in just her underwear and her sweater to their bedroom.

When he was last in the garage he noticed a clothes horse all folded up and he goes in search of it now. The cement floor makes him wince and he hurries in his socked feet to bring the drying rack back through into the cabin.

He sets it up by the fireplace and drapes their damp clothes over it, shucking out of his own wet pants at the last minute. Castle stuffs newspaper into their shoes the way he saw Kate do yesterday and arranges them on the hearth.

In their bedroom, Kate is in her pajamas and her hair is caught in a messy knot at her nape. She's got on those thick woollen socks that his mother bought and she shuffles across the hardwood to him and slides her arms low around his waist.

"Hi sweetheart," he says, affection a honeyed thing in his chest that makes his heart shrink and then expand again. "Let me get some clothes on and we'll cuddle."

"'Kay," she giggles. It always takes him by surprise to hear that bubbling happiness from her, and he kisses her forehead before she breaks away from him.

Kate heads to sit on the end of their bed and folds her legs beneath herself, watching him as he pulls on his own pajamas. His ears are crying out in protest at the sudden temperature change, and when he goes back to his wife she cups her palms over them.

It's an awkward angle and he gets a knee to the mattress, climbs onto the bed properly once Kate scoots back enough to make room for him. Her hands slide down and she winds her arms around his neck, rising up on her knees to meet his mouth.

His hands creep beneath her shirt as he kisses her and she moans, arching away from the cold of his touch. It only serves to crush her breasts against his chest and he splays a hand between her shoulder blades to keep her there.

Lips descending to the slope of Kate's neck, he suckles at the thunder of her pulse. Her skin is smooth and still cool and he lets his hot breath curl in the shallow of her clavicle.

"Mm, Castle," she says. Her hands fist in his hair to tug him away from her and he lifts his head. "We can't. It's- that time of the month."

"Oh," he deflates. It's mostly for show though, and he shuffles them around until they're both laying down in bed and he's got Kate draped over his chest. "Feeling okay?"

She huffs a little laugh and kisses his chest through his pajama shirt, her arm banded tight at his waist. "I'm fine for now. Cramps will set in later."

"Wanna have dinner first then? While you're still feeling good."

"Sure."

They lie there for a little while longer, his lips flirting with the crown of her head. Eventually he summons the energy to get out of bed and he draws Kate up as well with an arm around her shoulders.

In the kitchen, he finds the pre-rolled pastry in the refrigerator. Kate has looked out a casserole dish to cook the pie in and she sets it down on the stovetop. Plucking a serving spoon from the utensil holder, she brandishes it at him and he laughs, ducking out of the way. She scoops the innards from the crockpot into the pie dish, careful not to fill it too high.

Once she's done he unrolls the pastry and measures it out, cuts it to the right shape to cover the dish. He lays the pastry over the top and pinches it to the edges of the dish, cuts a pair of slits into the top so that the lid won't burst off while it cooks.

Kate opens the oven door for him and he slides the pie inside, sets a timer going on his phone. He leaves it dumped on the countertop and busies himself finding placemats and cutlery, setting the table for their meal.

"You want some wine?" his wife asks. When he glances towards the kitchen she's a disembodied voice, and he comes around the island to see her crouched in front of the wine rack embedded in one of the cabinets.

"Are you joining me?"

She shakes her head and gets to her feet again, tucks an escaped curl back behind her ear. "I'm gonna have to take Midol later, so it's probably not smart."

"Then I'll just have water," he says. He fetches them both a glass and carries them over to the table, comes back to Kate in the kitchen.

She's hoisted herself up to sit on the countertop now, her socked feet drumming against the cabinet below like a little girl. It makes him smile and he nudges his way between her thighs, kisses her with both hands at her cheeks.

In between the soft little kisses he brushes to her lips, he pulls back to just take her in. Her face is scrubbed clean of makeup, and she has tiny creases at the corners of her eyes that weren't there when he first met her. She's ageing so gracefully, and he can't wait to see how beautiful she is at forty years old, seventy.

"I don't wanna go home tomorrow," she admits against his mouth.

It makes him sigh, because he doesn't either, and he bows his head until his forehead meets hers. "I know. But you have to go back to work."

"I don't want to do that either. Not without you." She's grumbly, and it's adorable, but he hates that she's hurting over this.

His thumbs stroke back and forth across her cheeks and he tugs back enough to see her. Her face is a little smushed in his hands and he squeezes a little tighter until her lips pout. She smacks them together like a fish, makes bubbling noises, and he laughs and drops his hands to her shoulders.

"We're gonna be okay, Beckett. I promise."

He had an idea last week, and he's been tentatively looking into it. If he can't investigate in the precinct, he'll have to investigate outside of it in order to try and edge his way in to Beckett's cases. So, if he gets his PI licence, he might just be able to remain her partner.

She's not going to like it, which is why he's kept absolutely silent on the matter. It'll be a surprise for her, and hopefully when she sees that this is really going to work and she doesn't have to lose him, he'll earn one of those smiles that's like the dawn of a new world.

"I have an idea for the leftover pastry," she suggests. Kate hops down from the counter, her thighs skimming his, and she steps neatly around him. "Saw my mom do it a couple times when I was a kid."

Kate potters around the kitchen collecting things and he does his best not to get in her way. She's got sugar and cinnamon, and she mixes them together into a bowl.

"I can't remember what the proportions are." She turns over her shoulder to see him and she laughs, shaking her head at herself. "I'm guessing. I think this is right."

She mixes the sugar and cinnamon together and sets the bowl to one side, reaching for an egg next. She cracks that into a second bowl and stirs it with a fork until the yolk is mixed in. The leftover pastry is on the countertop, still on the wax paper it came rolled up with.

He watches his wife work in fascination as she spreads a little bit of raw egg over the pastry with a brush. Once she's happy, she sprinkles the cinnamon and sugar mixture over it and spreads it evenly with the back of a spoon.

The pastry is in a rectangle and Kate folds the long sides inwards. She repeats the whole process with the egg and the cinnamon sugar and then she folds again. Once more with the cinnamon and egg, and then she's done.

She finds a sharp knife in the drawer and slices the rolled up pastry into neat sections, laying them out on a baking sheet. He opens the oven door for her and she slides the baking sheet inside, darts in to kiss his cheek as she heads away.

Castle helps her clean everything up, dumping most of it in the sink so they can deal with all of the dishes at once after they've eaten dinner. Once they're done with that he draws her in against him again and he kisses the side of her face, his nose buried in her hair.

"Oh, hey," he remembers. "You said to remind you to show me a picture?"

"Right." She breaks out of their embrace and heads for her parents' room, comes back a moment later with a frame clutched tight in both hands.

He tries to peek, but she hides the picture against her chest and frowns at him. "How did I manage not to notice? I thought I studied every inch of this place."

"It lives in the nightstand in my dad's room, because it's embarrassing. But you're my husband and I love you, so you get to see."

Giddiness swamps him at that and he wraps an arm around her shoulders when she comes to stand beside him. Kate lowers the frame very slowly, and when he eventually does get a glimpse of the picture he gasps and takes it right out of her hands.

"Oh my goodness, you're so cute. Wow. Look at you."

The picture shows his wife at maybe six or seven years old. She's grinning widely at the camera, several teeth missing and her eyes screwed closed. Her hair is longer than he's ever seen it, almost at her waist, and it hangs in two braids. There's a hat on top of her head, knit in rainbow stripes with an enormous pom-pom at the end.

When he darts a glance down at Kate her cheeks are pink with embarrassment, and he can't help but kiss her. She opens to the touch of his tongue, but as she moves closer the sharp corner of the picture frame jabs her in the ribs and she yelps.

"This was the day I learned to make snow angels."

"There are so many," he laughs. In the picture Kate stands in a circle of angels. There must be at least ten, and it's like a heavenly chorus sent to protect the tiny, precious girl that his wife once was. "You look so proud of yourself."

She laughs and lays her head against the ball of his shoulder, stroking a fingertip across the glass frame. There's a wild spill of hair at the very edge of the shot, the rise of a coat-clad shoulder. "I was. My mom taught me, and she and I spent close to an hour out there. My dad had to drag us inside and force us in front of the fire."

"I think we should take this one back to the city. I want it for my desk."

"No, Castle," she sighs. That smile flirts at the corner of her lips though, and he knows that he's going to get his way. Even if he has to be a little sneaky about it.

His phone starts chirping from the countertop, the timer for their pie finished, and he lets Kate take the photograph back from him so that he can rescue their dinner from the oven.


	20. Chapter 20

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

"This is so good," Kate says around a mouthful of pie. She's opposite him at the table, and her socked feet keep nudging their way in between his and then sliding away again, over and over. "I miss my mom's cooking. But yours is just as good."

He feels it like a fist to the gut and he drops his fork. His hands are clumsy over hers on the tabletop and he strokes his thumbs across her palms. He's humbled and inelegant and his wife threads her fingers through his.

"I- thank you."

"Thank _you_ ," she says back.

Her slender fingers wiggle their way out from beneath his and he lets her take her hands back so that they can both resume eating. The pie really is delicious and he's trying to pace himself, trying not to gobble down his whole helping.

Once they're done eating he collects the dishes and carries them over to the sink. Kate is a blip at the edge of his awareness as she flits quietly around the cabin, wiping down the table and the countertops. He fills the sink with hot water and pours a generous helping of dish soap into the stream of the faucet, swirling his hand around to agitate the water and create bubbles.

It really is hot and he hisses, adjusts the faucet to add a little more cold. Curling his fingers, he shields his hand against his chest as the pain flares and then subsides again. They haven't cleaned the dishes since breakfast, so there's quite the stack for him to work through.

Castle plugs his phone into the speaker jack and starts up some music. It's that happy, mindless pop playlist and he dances in front of the sink as he starts washing up. He splashes as he works, and bubbles end up plastering his arms almost to the elbows.

Once he's done he pulls the plug out of the drain and waits for the water to swirl away, fascinated as always by the lazy circle it makes. He removes the ceramic inside part of the crockpot and puts it into the sink, pours a little dish soap into the bottom. It gets filled with water and he leaves it there to soak. He might not remember it until the morning, but that's okay.

Over on the couch he finds his wife. She's curled in the corner, her legs drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her face is mostly hidden against the twin peaks of her knees, but he can see that jagged purple vein in her forehead.

"Hey," he murmurs. When he sits beside her the couch cushions indent and she topples towards him. Her forehead meets his clavicle and she sighs, fists a hand in his shirt. "Cramps?"

"Yeah," a small voice comes.

It kills him to untangle himself from her, but he does. He leaves her there for a minute and he darts for their bathroom. Castle has a bag of medications that he carries with him when he travels, the hazards of being a father. It tends to be useful though, and he rummages inside for the Midol.

In the kitchen Castle fills a glass with water and carries it and the drugs back over to the couch. Kate has both hands pressed to her stomach now and she hums to herself, shifting on the cushions. He hands her the glass and pops two pills into his palm, holds them out to her. She takes them one at a time, and then she drinks down half of the water glass.

Collecting the fuzzy blanket from the back of the couch, he settles beside her and arranges them until they're laying down. They face each other, knees curled up and pressed together. He covers them with the blanket and he rests a palm at the small of her back.

The massage course that he went on years ago taught him all about pressure points and he finds the tender bundle of nerves either side of Kate's spine, pushes against them with his thumbs. It makes her groan in relief and her body sags, her forehead meeting the hollow of his throat.

"I wish I'd thought to bring the hot water bottle."

"I'm okay," she says. She's stopped her restless shifting now, her body finally at ease, and he kisses the top of her head. "Just give me a minute to let the Midol kick in."

He rubs her back just the way she likes, slow and deep pressure. It has her purring these soft little noises and she curls her fingers in the waistband of his pants, knuckles against his stomach.

The first time cramps had hit her they'd only been together for three weeks. She'd been embarrassed, had holed herself up at her own apartment. He's not exactly proud of it, but he'd sort of accidentally figured her out way back in their first year working together. For three years he'd been carrying Midol in his pockets for a week every month, had silently offered her the packet when she'd pinched the bridge of her nose or been unable to sit still in her desk chair.

Being with her made it different, made her blush and fumble her excuses. He had let himself in with her spare key and curled up in her bed behind her, smoothed his hands over her tense muscles.

Since that first time, she's been happy to let him help however he's able to. Later he might draw her a bath, but for now she seems content to lay on the couch with him. She's not drowsy; her eyes are closed but he can feel the scope of her awareness.

Eventually she straightens her legs out and shifts, sagging deeper into the cushions. He lets his palm roam a little wider over her back now, venturing upwards. Tucking his fingers underneath the strap of her bra, he wiggles them to make her laugh. Kate's lips form a kiss against the material of his shirt.

"How are you feeling now?" he says. He's learned to keep everything soft, voice and words and touch. That if he lets himself get too giddy on proximity she'll kick him right out of bed. Or off the couch.

"I'm okay. Midol is good stuff."

That makes him laugh and he kisses her forehead, so pleased to be here with her. He frees his hand from her shirt so that he can sift his fingers through her hair instead, massaging the base of her skull. She always gets a headache, but the drugs she took and his careful touch should help.

"I wanna do something," she murmurs. Her face is half hidden against his chest and he's mostly getting snatches of words. They rumble through his chest like thunder and he shivers. "It's New Year's Day. I don't wanna waste it lazing around."

"It's past eight," he reasons. Kate hates laziness, has to be coerced into cuddling up with him and doing nothing at all. The cabin brings it out in her though, so he's hopeful.

She pokes her toes into his shin, her nails scratching, and she lifts herself up on an elbow to narrow her eyes at him. "Still some day left. I don't want to sleep yet."

"I brought games. They're in the bedroom. I'll go get them."

He stands up from the couch and starts to tuck the blanket around Kate, but she's already wriggling like a bug escaping from its cocoon. She gets up as well and follows him through to their bedroom, her body warm and clinging at his back.

When they unpacked he put everything that wasn't clothing in the bottom drawer of the dresser and he tugs it open now, sinks to his knees. It makes him grunt, that old skiing injury flaring in needle-sharp protest.

"Okay. We've got chess. Battleships, checkers. And I also brought Twister."

"Ooh, Twister," she says. Her body cants forward in eagerness and her knee hits the back of his head. It almost knocks him into the drawer and he yelps, catches himself with both palms slammed flat against the dresser.

She laughs and reaches around him to free the plastic mat and the spinner from the drawer. Kate holds them to her chest with one hand, and the other she cups underneath his elbow to draw him up to standing. He straightens and nudges the drawer closed with his foot.

"You feeling up to Twister?"

"Yep." She nods, gives him a happy smile that makes her shoulders come up as well. "Gentle activity helps. I usually do yoga."

That makes him snort and he takes the board with the spinner from her, flicks his finger to send the plastic arrow around in circles. "I'm not sure this is gentle. You know how we get."

"Well you'll just have to go easy on me," she teases.

It makes him growl, but she's already darting away from him and back into the living room. She snaps her wrists and the plastic game mat billows out. It falls neatly and Castle sets the spinner down off to the side. "Wanna do it the normal way?"

"Yeah," Kate says. She has her hands on her hips as she assesses the Twister mat. "Not strip."

"Right."

They arrange themselves on the mat, facing each other from opposite ends. Each of them has one foot on the yellow circle at their end, and one on the blue. He blows Kate a kiss that makes her snort, but she snags it out of the air and presses it against her cheek.

Without a referee, things get a little trickier because there's no one to man the spinner. They take it in turns, one person calling out a body part and the other a colour, and they alternate each round. Things get tangled pretty quickly, because he always scuttles his way across the mat as fast as he can so that he can entwine himself with Kate.

She ends up bent over him, her stomach quivering in his face with the strain of holding herself upright. She calls out to move their left hands, and he chooses red. It means that Kate has to stretch and she does, arching over him.

Her shirt rides up and he opens his mouth against the flat of her abdomen, his tongue darting out to lick a hot stripe up past her navel. It makes her shriek and she writhes, trying to escape from his touch without losing contact with the mat.

"Castle, that's cheating. Stop it."

"Me?" he says, mock affront puffing up his words. "Not my fault you're so powerless to resist my rugged handsomeness."

Until now he hasn't really been paying attention to the rest of Kate's body. They call out again - he chooses right foot this time - and she moves. Very, very slowly, until her knee is sliding between his thighs.

He's on his back in a crab position, Kate straddling his leg now, and the tight pressure makes him grit his teeth and breathe heavily through his nose.

"Something wrong?" she asks. He can't even see her like this, tipped upside down with all of the blood rushing rapidly into his face. He feels her though, that smirk against his neck and the lazy rock of her hips, and he groans.

"Cruel, Beckett."

She knocks her head into his chest and he wobbles, but he stays upright. "Hey, maybe later we could take a bath? If you want to."

"Yes," he gasps, collapsing flat to the mat. She'd been leaning on his leg for support and she crashes down right along with him. "Yes. Bath. You win."

"So easy." Her smile is a sly, predatory thing and she lifts up to loom over him. Her palms land either side of his head and she leans in to kiss him, nibbling at his bottom lip.

He fells her with the hard press of a palm between her shoulder blades, and as she collapses he's already rolling them. Castle nudges his way between her legs and rocks his hips, his mouth open over hers. She kisses him back for a moment, and then she stays him with her palms against his chest.

"Bath. I want- you in the water."

Her breasts swell against the neckline of her shirt, the sheen of exertion-sweat across her chest, and he bows his head and breathes slowly as lust crests up and over him. Kate rolls her head and the plastic of the mat makes her hair collect static, so that she crackles when she sits upright.

They leave the Twister mat dumped on the living room floor as they scamper for the bathroom, fingers loosely knotted. Inside he closes the door and leans over the faucet to start the bathtub filling. Kate is beside him, pouring lotion into the water and swirling it around.

Once she's done she hops up to sit on the counter and she curls her feet around the backs of his thighs, tugging until he comes to stand between her legs. She arches against him, her arms around his neck, and she kisses him fiercely.

He gives it right back, teeth and tongue and his palms at her ass to hoist her in closer to him. It makes her shiver and her toes curl against his legs. Breaking away from her mouth, he smoothes her hair down and rests his forehead at hers.

"Clothes off."

His fingers move to the zipper of his pants but Kate stops him, covering his hands with her own. "Let me."

He drops his hands to his sides and curls them into fists, focuses on breathing slowly as his wife drags his zipper down. It snicks open tooth by metal tooth and he shivers. Once his pants are unzipped Kate nudges them down past his hips and he steps out of them.

Desire has him an inelegant fool and he has to catch himself at the counter so he doesn't go sprawling to the tile. One of his feet is tangled in his pants leg and he reaches down to free himself, tosses his pants towards the door.

Kate goes for his shirt next, fisting both hands in the hem and drawing it up over his head. He's in just his boxer shorts now and he shifts his weight from foot to foot, settles his hands in the curves of Kate's waist. She lifts her chin to kiss him and he smiles against her mouth.

"This doesn't seem fair," he huffs. Kate is still wearing her giant knit sweater and he tugs on the bottom of it until she lifts her arms, lets him pull it off over her head. It messes up her hair and she huffs a breath to blow the strands out of her eyes.

He pops open the button of her pants and she hops down from the counter, wriggling her hips to help him as he pulls the tight jeans off of her. Castle shuts off the faucet now that the tub is full and they strip out of their underwear, leaving everything dumped in a heap on the tile.

As always, he's the first to climb into the tub. He sinks down and makes himself comfortable, legs wide to accommodate her body. Kate starts to climb into the bath, one foot already in the water, but then she pauses and pulls it back out.

He waits in bemusement as she scampers from the room. When she comes back she's got her hair piled up on top of her head, a few little curls already escaping to frame her face. This time she climbs right in to the tub with him and sinks down.

Her head rests against his shoulder and he settles his hands at her stomach, drawing her in a little bit closer. He kisses her temple, her cheek. "Still feeling good?"

"I'll let you know if I'm not," she promises.

Kate relaxes piece by piece, her body growing limp in his arms. Her eyes are closed, her lashes brushing his neck. He lets his fingers wander, left hand still at her stomach to keep her with him. His right traces lazy patterns along the length of her thigh, shifting to explore her forearm.

"Mm," she sighs. "I don't wanna go home tomorrow."

"Let's not. Let's just pack up and move out here. We can spend the rest of our lives doing nothing but each other."

She laughs and shakes her head. It makes her temple knock against his jaw and he turns into her touch, kisses the smooth skin between her eyebrows. "I don't think we'd last a month before we went feral. We're city folks."

"Yeah," he muses. "Plus, there's no internet here. It's nice for a week or so, but I think I'd lose it after a while."

"Me too."

They fall quiet then, the soft susurration of the water against the side of the tub whenever they shift the only sound. The blinds are open and he can see their reflections in the window, the lovely hills and planes of Kate's body covering his.

She shifts to put her forehead to his neck and close her eyes, an arm hooked around his waist. Her knees come up and he wraps his arm beneath her thighs. Like this, she's curled up small in his lap and he winds his free arm around her shoulders to rock her.

"I miss my mom," Kate whispers. "Sixteen years. That's almost- I've nearly lived longer without her than I got to have her for."

"I know honey." He pets clumsily at the back of her neck, trying not to dampen the hair at her nape. "It's not fair. You shouldn't have to be without her."

She kisses the ridge of his clavicle then, her lips warm and dry. As she moves the water sloshes, and she slides a knee over his legs and sits back on his thighs. Her wet hands come up to his cheeks and for a moment she studies him, thumbs at the corners of his mouth.

When she kisses him, he tastes grief like salt. He lets his hands fall to rest at her waist and his thumbs stroke the silk of her skin. Their kiss is careful, the tentative press of her tongue inside his mouth for only a moment before she's drawing back again, lips to his.

"I know we had this talk last year," she starts. Her fingers slide up into his hair and she scratches at his scalp, pushes his bangs out of his face. "But I want to reiterate. It's important."

"Sure."

"I'm sad, this time of year. I miss her, and it hurts. But I'm so happy too. You make it not hurt so much."

For a moment he can't even speak, overcome with awe for this stunning creature over him. Kate kisses the corner of his mouth and he draws his arms around her shoulders, brings her in to his chest. Squeezing too tight, but she hides her face against his neck and says nothing.

He feels useless, a great lump beneath her, and he kisses the soft shell of her ear. "You know that I'm here for whatever you need."

"Just need you," she says, pulling back to see what that does to him. His lips tug up at the corners and he lowers his eyes, bashful with how she loves him. "Let's get out. I'm wrinkly."

Kate shows him the prune-pads of her fingers and he laughs, presses a kiss to the tip of each one. She gets out first, wrapping her towel around herself, and he pulls the plug before he follows her out of the bathtub. He wraps his own towel around his waist and they pad together through to the bedroom, their clothes clutched against Kate's chest.

Wet footprints track through the cabin and he winces, hopes that they're not ruining the hardwood. In the bedroom they dry themselves and pull on pajamas, take turns in the bathroom. He loves every moment of the days he spends with Kate, but getting to collapse into bed sleepy and limp at the end of it just might be his favourite.

He sprawls in the middle of the mattress, his head craned to watch his wife as she potters around their room a little longer. It makes his neck crease up like a shar pei and she laughs when she catches sight of him. Kate sets the packet of Midol and a glass of water down on her nightstand, and then she flips off the overhead light and comes to join him in bed.

The sheets are trapped beneath the weight of his body and he helps her tug them free, tucks his legs beneath them. Kate thumps her pillows and arranges them before she lays flat to the mattress. She rolls to put her back to him and she gropes for his hand.

Castle slides his arm smoothly around her and draws her across the sheets. She fits neatly in the curve of his body and he kisses the back of her neck, smoothes her hair aside so that it doesn't tickle him. His fingers splay at her stomach and she hums, wiggles to get comfortable.

"Hey," he murmurs. "Wake me in the night if you want a back rub. Or a distraction. Just if you need to."

"I'll wake you," she laughs.

He's still not quite used to the rich darkness in the cabin. In the city even with his blackout blinds there's a texture to the night, and he can navigate his way through its velvet leaves. Here, they could leave the shades open entirely and it would still be the same disorienting pitch.

Beside him in the bed his wife is more awareness than shape, a patch of deeper shadow. She's doing that slow draw through the sheets with her legs to find a comfortable position, and he waits for her to still again. "How's your two thousand fifteen so far?"

"It's good," she says back. Her voice is quiet, sleep already taking her by the hand and leading her away from him. "A happy year. It's a good one, don't you think? Nice numbers."

"Yeah," he agrees.

He adores sleepy Kate, her mumbled nonsense-words and the way she curls up close to the warmth of him. The circulation is getting cut off in his other arm and he shifts to bend it and slide it underneath of the pillow they're sharing.

Kate turns her nose into the inside of his forearm, leaves a wet and sloppy kiss at his elbow. It makes him smile into the night and he kisses the top of her head. She sighs and her body melts back against him further, her thighs resting on top of his.

It's not so late, not really. In the city they stay up far later than this, working or watching movies or rolling together beneath the sheets. They were up early this morning though, and he's not about to stop her from sleeping if that's what she needs.

"Hey sweetheart," he whispers. The quiet and the closeness makes him a sap, like always. She barely stirs, but he gets a little hum of response. "I love you. I can't wait to spend this year as your husband. And all the others after that."

"M'love you too," she manages.

He shuts up then. After a little while Kate rolls over, away from him. It puts more space between their bodies and she tucks both of her fists up beneath her chin, her knees drawn up too. Castle reaches out and strokes the tip of his finger over her cheek, draws the covers up a little higher to tuck them around her.

She snuffles, rubbing her face against the pillow. Something in him itches to write, but the blue glow of his screen would pull her awake again. For once, he's content to keep this moment to himself. Kate's lips part as she falls asleep, her face smooth as a river stone. A hand curls in the top of the comforter and he has to shift closer so that he can still have a share of the covers.

Like this her breath comes in little puffs against his collar bone, and he finally closes his eyes. He brings a fist up in echo of hers, their forearms not touching but sharing warmth. Sleep laps at him and he lets it come, lets the drowsiness carry him right along into dreaming.


	21. Chapter 21

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

The room is freezing when Kate wakes up and she burrows down underneath the covers, hiding her face against Castle's armpit. He's on his stomach, his face mashed down into the little space between their two pillows. She can only see the furry edge of his eyebrow and the curve of one ear.

She's never been very good at lounging, and now that she's awake her brain is eager to start the day. They have to drive back to the city, and she doesn't want to do it in the dark. They're aiming to leave at lunchtime, so the earlier she gets up the longer she can enjoy the cabin.

For half a second, she debates waking her husband. He needs his sleep though, and he's so far under that his chest barely moves. She slips silently out from their bed and pulls on a sweater and socks. Her bones are clattering and she hops from foot to foot, rubs her hands together.

Out in the living room, Kate sinks to her knees in front of the hearth and she sets the fire. It takes longer than usual because she's shivering, but she manages to get it lit eventually. She stays right where she is, palms held out towards the flames.

Her face gets hot and she has to move away from the fireplace, but the warmth is moving through the room now. Kate starts the coffee machine brewing and she ducks back into the bedroom to collect her phone from the nightstand.

Castle hasn't shifted and she lingers for a moment to watch him, the hulking mass of his body beneath the covers. She married this man, almost two months ago. It still feels unbelievable, and she has to leave the room so that her girlish pleasure doesn't startle him into awareness.

She hops up onto one of the barstools and scrolls through her phone while the coffee percolates. Kate hasn't turned her data on at all for their trip, and once they make it back to the city and her phone connects to the wifi she'll probably be inundated with messages and emails.

There are a couple of texts, one from Lanie and one from her dad. Both wish her and Castle a happy New Year and she smiles, sends her gratitude and her echoed sentiment back to the two of them. The coffee machine beeps to signal to her that it's done brewing.

Kate collects a mug and the creamer, and then she changes her mind and puts it back in the refrigerator. This is her husband's least favourite day of the whole year, when all of the holiday festivities are over with and they have to get back to the everyday.

Breakfast in bed is a small thing, but it's sure to cheer him up. She makes him a s'morelette, and one for herself too because she actually thinks his creation is pretty delicious. He taught her once and she goes through the motions now, humming to herself as she cracks eggs into a bowl.

Once she's done she fixes them each a mug of coffee and arranges their breakfast onto a tray, carrying it through into the bedroom. She sets it down on the nightstand and moves the coffee mugs, one at her nightstand and one at his.

When she climbs into bed, Kate hovers on her knees beside her husband. He's like a grizzly bear, broad and snoring, and she's loath to pull him out of hibernation. The prospect of spending this last morning without him is entirely unappealing though.

Stroking her fingers through his hair, Kate leans in close and puts her lips to his ear. "Good morning, sleepyhead. Time to wake up."

"Kate?" he groans. She gives him enough space to roll over and he flops onto his back, scrubbing a hand over his face. He blinks up at her and she smiles, shifting to fold her legs beneath herself. "Hi."

"Hi," she says back.

Castle works his way upright, stuffing pillows in behind himself. He tucks the covers in around his waist and lifts a hand to the back of her neck, reels her in for a closed-mouth kiss.

"I made breakfast."

She reaches for their food and moves to sit beside her husband, the tray balanced carefully over both of their laps. He moans his pleasure when he sees what she's made and he digs straight in, shovelling mouthfuls of chocolatey omelette into his mouth.

"You make them even better than I do," he says around a forkful.

Kate lays her cheek against his shoulder and chews slowly. She feels him swallow, and then his lips come to the crown of her head in a kiss. Beneath the sheets, he spreads a hand out over her thigh and squeezes the meat of her leg, his thumb circling.

"What do you want to do today?" she asks him. "Our last morning."

"I think I'd like to go for another walk in the woods." Castle picks up his mug from the nightstand and blows gently across the surface of the coffee before he takes a sip.

His plate is empty now, and Kate has eaten enough, so she moves the tray to the floor and nudges it away with her foot. She collects her mug on her way back to Castle's side. Wrapping both hands around it, she holds it to her chest so that the steam curls over the crag face of her jaw.

"A walk sounds great. Get some exercise in before we're trapped in the car."

"Hey?" he says. Mug put aside on the nightstand, he twists in bed to see her. "How did you sleep? You didn't wake me."

She lifts one shoulder in a shrug, takes a sip of her coffee before she answers him. "I woke up around two and had to take some more Midol. But I went straight back to sleep. I'm alright."

"Okay, good," he smiles. He's goofy in the mornings, his hair fluffy and flopping into his face. Sleep is crystalline at the corner of his eye and his jaw is scattered with prickly regrowth. "You want first shower?"

"Yes please."

Kate gulps down the rest of her coffee in a few mouthfuls, feels the scalding surge all the way down her gullet and into the pit of her stomach. When she's done she sets her mug down and she captures her husband's face between her palms.

Holding him in place, she darts in to steal a kiss from him. Just the careful touch of their lips, because her mouth tastes stale. Her fingernails scratch lightly over his scalp and he groans, a hand coming up to rest between her shoulder blades.

Her hair feels limp and disgusting, hanging like a dead thing over her cheeks. She scrapes a hand through it as she leaves their bed, tucks it behind her ears. In the bathroom she uses the toilet and washes her hands, inspects herself in the mirror over the sink.

Her skin is a little pale, but winter always does that to her. The happy lines around her eyes seem to carve deeper every time she sees them, but those she doesn't mind so much. Kate turns on the water and steps into the shower stall, lifting her hair away from her neck to let it get wet.

Their toiletries are lined up neatly along the little lip of the shower floor and she stoops down to grab her conditioner. Squeezing some out into her palm, she rubs her hands together and sweeps her hair over one shoulder, runs the conditioner through it.

She shampoos second, the lather sliding down her forehead so that she has to screw her eyes closed and tilt her face into the spray from the shower head. The shampoo sluices down her back and to the floor and she slides her foot through the bubbles before they disappear down the drain.

There's not enough water in the tank for her to shave and still leave some for Castle. They'll be back to the city and Castle's bottomless supply of hot this evening, so she leaves her razor and lathers her shower gel over her skin.

After she's rinsed clean she steps out of the shower stall and tips her head upside down, wraps a towel around her hair. The other, larger towel she tucks beneath her arms and knots it between her breasts. Kate pads back to the bedroom, droplets sliding down the column of her neck and absorbing into the fluff of the towel.

When he sees her emerge Castle climbs out of bed and heads for the bathroom. On his way past he captures her with his hands at her hips, and he draws her in close. Kate lays her forearms against his chest, her hands either side of his neck, and she accepts his kiss.

She leaves her hair in its towel hat as she gets dressed. Castle has left the bathroom door open so she darts back inside to rub some moisturiser into her skin and brush her teeth. He's in the shower stall and he swipes at the condensation of the glass so that he can see her.

His smile stretches wide and she grins back, blows him a kiss as she turns to leave the room again. Her blowdryer is still plugged in to the outlet and she works a little product through the ends of her hair, wipes her hands on her towel before she flips the blowdryer on.

She dries her hair upside down for volume, sifting her fingers through it to let the heat get to the damper parts. When she's almost done two hands come to her hips, but by now she's come to expect it and she doesn't startle. Instead, she rocks back against her husband.

He gives her room to finish up, and when she straightens and turns off the blowdryer he winds his arms around her from behind and props his chin at her shoulder. Castle kisses the lobe of her ear, captures it between his teeth, and she shivers under the cool mint of his breath.

"I'm excited to shower without the hot water running out halfway through," he says. His jaw grates against the bones of her shoulder as he speaks and he straightens up, comes to stand beside her instead. "Ready for a walk?"

"Let me get my coat and everything."

They'll need to pack when they get back later, and as she tracks through the cabin in search of her coat and hat she makes a mental note of where her other things are. It's not like it really matters if they leave something here, but it wouldn't exactly be convenient.

She winds her scarf around her neck and tucks the tails inside the lapel of her coat. Tugging her hat down over the tips of her ears, she finds her gloves and puts them into her pockets for later, goes in search of her rubber boots.

They're waiting by the fire, newspaper still scrunched up and stuffed down inside them. The insides are dry when she pulls the paper out though and she pulls the boots on, taps her heels together. Castle is right behind her, and he sits on the couch to put his sneakers on.

"Are they dry?"

"Not quite," he admits. "I really need some rubber boots. And some hiking boots."

She laughs and comes to stand beside him, sifting her fingers through the hair at his nape as he stoops to tie his shoelaces. "We'll get you all of the boots once we're back in the city. Something to look forward to."

"Life with you is something to look forward to," he says as he straightens. Castle takes her hand in his and tugs her down into the chair with him. It's an awkward fit, both of them squashing their lumpy bulk down into the seat.

Kate lays her head against her husband's shoulder, her legs dangling over the side of the armchair. Her feet feel strangely heavy with the boots on and she swings them, kicking against the seat.

"I know. I just mean- I have to go to work on Monday. But at least we've got Sarah Grace's birthday party tomorrow, and our shopping trip planned."

"Good," he says firmly. "As long as you know."

She struggles her way off of Castle's lap and out of the chair. He's right behind her and he slides his hand into hers, their palms clasped and swinging between them as they head for the French doors. Kate bounces down the porch steps and lands heavily in the bank of snow that the wind has collected against the foundation of the cabin.

Last night, she lay awake for longer than she admitted to Castle. The Midol took a while to start working, and she had been curled around her husband's arm with her knees drawn up almost to her chest. Outside, the wind had called out in mournful wailing as it moved through the woods. It made those branches tap against the kitchen window, without rhythm, and she had been unable to fall back to sleep for close to an hour.

Her jump sprays snow up in an arc and it covers Castle's pants. He laughs and does his best to shake it off, still clinging tight to her hand. The cold out here is immediate and she has to take her fingers back from him for just a moment so she can pull her gloves on.

They head for the tree line, their strides a little slower than normal because the powder sucks at their feet with every step. Olaf is standing tall, his face still cartoonish and sharp, and Castle flickers his free fingers in a wave as they head past.

They forge a different route to their walk yesterday, heading away from their own tracks. It means they have to move more slowly, less sure of the path, but she likes the challenge of it. A couple of times she almost trips, but Castle yanks her upright again and she manages to keep walking.

"I hope our bear friend is doing okay."

"He's probably sleeping again," she tells him. Kate knows that the bear looks adorable, and the temptation is almost there to try and find his den, watch him snooze. She grew up hearing horror stories from her father's friends though, and she knows better.

The woods are silent and still this morning, not even the robins with their prideful chests venturing out into the world. Her skin feels pulled taut across her skull with the cold and she wrinkles her nose again and again to try and work some feeling back.

A rustling catches her attention and she squeezes Castle's hand, brings them both to a stop. Kate holds her breath as the buck lifts his head. His antlers splay proudly and his warm eyes linger on them. His muzzle is snowy where he's been foraging for something to eat, and the tip of his pink tongue pokes out.

Castle is absolutely silent beside her, his fingers clutching hers so tight. His breath comes in little visible puffs as he holds eye contact with the deer. The buck's white tail twitches and he turns his head, hearing something their less developed ears can't make out. His body quivers, and in the next moment he's darting away deeper into the underbrush.

"Wow," Castle breathes. His body turns slowly to face her, but his eyes remain fixed on the spot where the deer just was until the last possible second. When they do lift to meet Kate's his face is slack with awe and she cups her hand at his elbow, worried he might go to the ground. "He was so majestic."

"He was," she laughs. Stepping in close, she kisses the corner of her husband's lips until he finds a smile and kisses her back. His fingers sneak into her hair and dislodge her hat. Huffing, she tugs away and straightens it again.

Kate sifts her gloved fingers through his hair in retaliation, messing it up, and he tugs away from her touch. "I recognised him. His eyes."

"You recognised his eyes," she says flatly.

"Yes," he says. His body comes awake in insistence and he lifts up onto his toes with eagerness. Clutching at her hand, he lifts it to his chest and traps it there. "He was the baby deer we saw in the woods with his mother. The first time we were here."

That makes her snort and she rolls her eyes at him, takes her hand back but lets him keep the loose clasp of their palms. "How can you possibly know that?"

"I just do. There was a connection. He recognised me too."

Kate hooks her arm through his and starts them walking again. It's too cold out to be still for long, so they continue to track through the covering of snow. They're both quiet for a little while, enjoying the soft sound of their footfalls, but then Castle pipes up again.

"He looked guilty. It was his fault I got poison ivy on me. I bet he knows, and he was trying to convey his apology."

"Uh-huh, sure," she says, has to press her lips together to stop her amusement from spilling out. Her husband is so earnest in this idea, so boyishly convinced, and she's not about to shatter it for him.

They have to separate when a log cuts across the path in front of them. It's tall enough that the crest of the curved bough doesn't even have a snow covering.

Castle hops over first, and the bulk of his body as he leaps over the log makes her choke on laughter. Bent double, she has to turn away and cover her mouth with her palm. When she eventually manages to stand up straight again he's got his arms folded across his chest and his bottom lip juts out in a pout at her.

Settling one boot firmly at the top of the log, Kate straightens her leg and lifts herself gracefully over it, landing on one foot at the other side. She doesn't really need help, but Rick catches her against the wall of his chest anyway, both arms around her.

"At least you got an apology now. After two and a half years." She pats his chest and then she breaks out of his grip and strides off.

He huffs as he catches up to her and she smiles, doesn't turn around. Kate lets him have her fingers again and they carry on walking. They chatter aimlessly, talking about Nikki and Black Pawn and then he tries to persuade her to come to the giant party the publishers are throwing for all of their authors later this month.

The moment he got the invitation in the mail he had asked if she'll come with him, and she'd said that she would have to see what her work schedule looked like nearer the time. Now, any opportunity to spend time with her husband feels sacred, and she agrees without hesitation to join him.

There's not really a loop through the woods, or at least there isn't one that won't take them hours to complete. They've got a lot to get done when they get back to the cabin, and she wants to leave right after lunch, so Kate squeezes his fingers in hers.

"Wanna turn around and head back?"

"Sure," he says. It feels pretty silly to spin on the spot and walk back the way they came, and Castle laughs as they turn around. This time he hooks his arm through hers and he kisses the side of her face, wet and making her wrinkle her nose.

When they get back to the log he refuses to let go of her and they have to climb over it together. It almost sends them both crashing to the ground and Castle shrieks, clutching at her to stay upright. She staggers, but she maintains her balance and she tugs on her husband until he snaps to attention and continues to walk again.

Back at the cabin, they strip out of their layers. The fire is still crackling in the hearth and after some prodding from Kate it leaps into life again. She sets their shoes in front of it to get dry before they need to pack them, and she pads in her socked feet to find her husband in the bedroom.

"What are we doing with the sheets? Wanna take them back to the city?"

"I don't think there's much point," she says. Kate leans agains the doorframe, shoulder and hip to the wood. Her husband has both of their cases open on the bed and he bends over, gives her a show as he empties the bottom drawer of the dresser.

When he straightens again he catches her looking and he dumps his armful of stuff into the case, comes for her in the doorway. Both arms wrap around her and he draws her in close until their hips meet. Her hair feels flat to her head from the hat, but he sifts his fingers through it and strokes down, playing with the ends.

"This is so much better than the last time we left," he murmurs. "We're going back to the home we share. I don't have to say goodbye to you."

Kate winds her arms around his neck and lifts up onto the tips of her toes, presses her cold lips to his warmer ones. Tugging back, she puts enough space between them that she can feel the curl of his breath, and no more. "Never saying goodbye to you again. My husband."

"My wife," he says back.

They're still in the doorway and she walks him slowly backwards, wishing their bed wasn't taken up by suitcases and her body wasn't betraying her. They're hindered, sure, but it doesn't mean that they can't fool around, and she aches for him. Instead of lowering him to the mattress she backs up against the wall, drawing him in.

Castle settles his palms either side of her head, body covering hers, and he comes in to kiss her. It's so good, the nudge of his thigh between hers and the slick work of his tongue. He breaks away from her mouth and his lips skate down her neck, his teeth nibbling very gently at her skin.

When he gets to her collarbone his tongue darts out into the pool of shadow beside it and she whimpers, rocking against him. His hands are underneath her sweater and he circles his thumbs against her hipbones as he kisses the hollow of her throat.

"Rick," she manages. Her skull is rolling against the wall but she fists her hands in his hair and drags his head up until she can see him. "We can't. We should pack."

For a moment she thinks he'll agree. Instead, his hands slide around to palm her ass and he hoists; her legs hook around his waist automatically. Castle walks her to the kitchen and sets her down on the island, his arms still tight around her.

"I never get to have you in the kitchen at home. One more time while we know nobody can possibly walk in on us. Please?"

It makes her laugh, but she's still rocking desperately against him and she arches her spine. Her breasts crush against his chest and Kate kisses him, biting down hard at his bottom lip only to soothe him with her tongue a moment later.

"I really think there's something to be said for soft surfaces," she gets out. The countertop is hard beneath her butt, and she's not convinced that Castle's going to be able to stay standing. "And horizontal ones."

"We've got the rest of our lives for that," he grumbles. "And the way we're going, the next time we're here really will be with the little ones. Could be our last chance."

"Babe, I do want to. But we can't. Especially not on the counter."

That makes him pause and he drops his hands from her waist, stuffs them down into his pockets instead. His head hangs, and he looks so terribly dejected that she can't help but smooth her thumb over the top of his ear. "We can still make out though right?"

"Yes," she says immediately. "Just- let's get somewhere more comfortable. Couch?"

"Couch."


	22. Chapter 22

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

Kate has always enjoyed packing. She likes the process of gathering all her things together and figuring out how to fit them in her bag. It never takes her very long either, and packing to come home is even easier. No decisions to be made.

She moves swiftly through the cabin to collect all of her belongings from the various places she's dumped them over the course of their trip. Castle is sort of behind her, but he keeps stopping to groan or distracting himself with a gadget he forgot he brought.

Once Kate has all of her stuff tucked neatly away in her suitcase she zippers it closed and moves it to the front door. The keys are hanging on the hook and she shrugs, carries on right outside and stows her bag in the trunk of the car.

Back inside of the house Castle has still hardly made any progress. It makes her sigh and she slides her arms around him from behind, kisses the back of his neck. "Do you need me to help you?"

"Yes. Probably smart."

He twists in her grip and she lets him turn to face her, arms still around his middle. His lips come to the top of her head and he breathes her in. The heave of his chest makes her laugh and she lays her cheek over his heart, tucking the tips of her fingers into the waistband of his pants at the back.

"It's because I don't want to go."

"It's because you hate packing," she fires right back. "You took this long to get ready to come here in the first place. Are you telling me you didn't want to?"

He's aghast at that and he rears out of their embrace to stare down at her, his lips parted. Kate puts two fingers beneath his jaw to guide him to shut his mouth and he does, snapping it closed. Only to open it and speak a second later.

"Of course not. I love it here, Beckett. Of course I wanted to come. I've been looking forward to it since the last time we were here."

She kisses him to stem the flow of words, her hands at his ears for balance as she lifts up into him. He catches her with his hands at her waist and he kisses her right back. It's a little sloppy, his usual finesse absent in the work of his tongue, but still good.

"I don't want to go home either," she assures him when they break apart. "But at the same time, I kind of do. I miss the city. And I love getting to just have you, but I miss our family."

That makes him smile. He slides his hands into her back pockets to squeeze her butt and drag her hips in against his. "They miss us too, you know. I know Alexis doesn't exactly say it out loud, but she does love you."

"I know she does," Kate nods. Things were on trembling ground for a while there, but she's certain now. She and Alexis have a friendship that Beckett hopes will blossom. She's never wanted to mother the girl, or even be a sister or a cool aunt, but friendship seems infinitely appealing. "I love her, too."

He's grinning down at her now, and he touches that happy mouth to hers. She kisses him back for just a moment, and then Kate breaks away and steps back entirely. Pushing on his chest, she nods her head towards the pile of things he's managed to collect and deposit on their bed.

"I'll get your stuff for you, okay? All you need to do is put it in the bag."

"But Mooooom," he whines. Kate clamps her hand over his mouth and scowls at him. The tip of his tongue darts out to touch her palm, his teeth scrape, and she takes her hand back.

Turning her back on him, she pads slowly around the cabin to make sure that her husband hasn't left any more of his stuff around. It's a small space, at least; whenever they come back from the Hamptons it takes forever to check every drawer in the place, under all of the furniture.

His portable speaker is still in the kitchen and she gathers it up. Squeezing the two halves together to compress the concertina middle, she twists it closed so that it's in its pod shape. She's got the charger for his laptop as well and she carries them both through into the bedroom, puts them on the bed for him to pack.

"You gonna wear the shoes that are out there for the drive home?"

"Yeah," he says. "Leave them till the last possible moment."

She nods, and then she heads back for the living room again. In the past she's tried to help him actually pack, but he just ends up getting distracted and it feeds in to her and somehow every time she winds up beneath him on the mattress.

Kate checks the rest of the living space of the cabin, but there doesn't seem to be anything else that belongs to either of them. Certainly not anything that cries out to be brought back to the city. Poking her head around the bedroom door, she catches him sliding along the hardwood floor in his thick socks and she clears her throat.

"That's everything babe. Just got to put it all in your bag."

She leaves him there and moves for the kitchen to wash their breakfast dishes. Her rings are a cold touch at the base of her finger, have been all winter. Easing them off, she sets them both safely in the little bathtub on the windowsill and she starts the water running.

Her phone is in her purse in the bedroom so she can't play any music. Instead, Kate sings to herself as she fills the sink and pours dish soap into the stream of the faucet. She's had an amalgam of Christmassy songs caught in her head all season, and she's looking forward to not hearing any of them again for an entire year.

Kate works through the dishes pretty quickly, her attention mostly focused out of the window over the sink. There are no signs of life today, but she's intrigued by the various tracks that move through the snow. Once she's done she dries her hands on a dishcloth and heads for the bedroom again.

"Done?"

Castle groans and lifts his head from the pillow. He's on his stomach in their bed, and there are still things scattered across the sheets beside him. "It's too hard. Too boring."

A knee to the mattress, Kate leans in close until her body bows over his. Her hair falls in a curtain and he rolls over onto his back to see her. His hand comes up to lay against her cheek and he smiles. She's ready for it when he tugs on her and she allows herself to be drawn into bed and tucked up next to him.

"I was thinking. We've had the fire going the whole time, and we haven't made s'mores."

"You _just_ had a s'morelette," she scoffs. He only kisses the tip of her nose, his knuckles coasting up and down the length of her spine.

The touch makes her drowsy and she yawns, her head resting against the swell of his bicep. His chest radiates warmth and she moves closer, hides from the chill in the room.

"I know, but it's not the same thing. We can't go back without making s'mores. Please, Kate. Please."

He draws out the vowel sounds to needle at her and she huffs. Bringing her knees up, she lets them poke into his thighs and she slips her fingers beneath his shirt. They're still a little damp from washing the dishes and he squirms.

"Fine. We can make s'mores. Once you're done packing."

It seems to motivate him and he shoots upright, dislodging her entirely. Kate rolls onto her back and folds her arms beneath her head, stays in bed to watch him as he tucks the last of his things away in his suitcase. He's a neat packer. It's been drilled into him from years of travelling for book publicity, and before that moving around to follow his mother's career in the theatre.

Once he's done he makes a noise of triumph and zippers his case closed, heaves it off the bed and onto the hardwood. "Come on. S'more time."

He's thrumming with eagerness and he reaches for her hand, yanks to heave her off the mattress. The force of his tugging makes her stumble and she crashes against his chest, her arms sliding around him automatically.

"Don't manhandle me," she grumbles. If she weren't feeling so lazy, and if she weren't afraid of hurting him, she would have dropped him onto his ass.

"Sorry baby," he says. There's a flicker of mirth at the corners of his mouth but he wipes it away and kisses her forehead, his hands at her cheeks. "I'm sorry. After you."

Kate makes her way out of their bedroom, turning over her shoulder to narrow her eyes as she passes him. It makes him swallow hard and he pads silently along behind her, his body hot at her back. She nods her head towards the kitchen and he goes to collect what they'll need.

In front of the fireplace, Kate sinks to the floor and folds her legs beneath herself. The flames are still licking at the fuel and she adds another small log, figuring that they'll burn through it before it comes time to leave the cabin.

Castle comes back with his arms laden and she takes everything from him so that he can sit, spreads it out between them. She's grumbly, for no reason at all, and he breaches the distance to kiss the corner of her lips.

"We don't have to do this. Not if you don't want. And you. . .look like you don't want."

"No, I do," she forces a smile for him. "It's just post-holiday blues I guess. But s'mores will be good."

Her husband studies her for a moment longer and then he nods, satisfied. Castle frees two Graham crackers from their packaging and passes one over to Kate. She breaks it in half and balances the two pieces at her knee. Castle does the same, and she breaks off a piece of chocolate from the packet for each of them, hands his over.

"Are these skewers okay to be putting in the fire? I couldn't find anything else."

He's got the metal ones and he passes one over to her, pokes the end of his own into a marshmallow. Kate does the same and she brandishes it at him, has to snatch it back when he opens his mouth as if he's about. "Dad uses these when he barbecues sometimes. They're fine to be in the fire."

"Good," Castle says, and lunges forward to put his marshmallow right into the flames.

It makes her laugh and Kate shifts forward, careful not to knock the chocolate and the cracker off her knee. She puts her marshmallow into the fire, turning it slowly to let it get nice and toasted. Once it turns golden and the shell starts bubbling she takes it back out and sets the marshmallow on top of the chocolate.

Kate puts the second Graham cracker on top of the marshmallow and pulls the skewer out, sets it out of the way so that she won't burn herself. She squeezes just a little and the gooey marshmallow starts to drip over the side of the cracker and onto her hand.

Lifting it to her mouth, she tries to pop it neatly past her lips. It's been a long time since she's done this, and she never has known how to be elegant about it. She winds up with sticky, melted marshmallow all over her face, her hair getting caught in it as well.

It makes her huff, but swiping at it with her fingertips does nothing to help. She chews slowly, relishing the sweetness and the texture, and she smiles around her mouthful when Castle finally puts his s'more together and eats it. He always sets his marshmallow on fire first, likes the taste of the charcoal around the edges.

He manages to get the s'more into his mouth without covering himself in marshmallow and she grunts her irritation. The pads of her fingers are sticky and she sucks each one into her mouth to clean the marshmallow off.

Castle disappears to the kitchen for a minute and comes back with a wet cloth. Two fingers at her chin, he tilts her face up towards him and he cleans the marshmallow off her skin. He's gentle, and once he's done he kisses her damp cheeks one at a time, finishes with his lips pressed to hers.

"Good as new."

Her second try goes a little better. At least, she manages to get the s'more into her mouth without winding up with it smeared all over her face. Castle moves all of the various packets to the hearth in front of them so that he can scoot closer, and he lays a hand over her thigh.

"The first time I taught Alexis how to make s'mores, she wound up with so much marshmallow in her hair that we had to tie it up."

"Yeah," Kate huffs. "And how old was she?"

Castle swallows hard and peers at her from the corner of one eye. "Three?"

"I'm thirty five," Kate wails, covering her eyes with a hand. "I should be able to eat a damn s'more without getting it all over myself."

Darting in for a fast kiss, Castle lingers with his forehead against hers. "It's adorable, Beckett. And reaffirming. You're so perfect at everything you do. At least there's one thing you're not graceful and amazing at."

"There are a lot of things." Kate rolls her eyes, but he's already turned away from her and refocused on constructing his next s'more. Narrowing her eyes at the back of his head, Kate waits for a moment to see if he's going to expand on his sentiment.

When he doesn't she shrugs and fishes a Graham cracker out of the packet, lays the foundations for her next s'more.

They make a few more each, but they haven't had lunch yet and she doesn't want to fill herself up. After they're done they put everything away and then Castle takes both of her hands in his and smiles down at her.

"Can we go back outside? I wanna see the lake again."

"Sure." She lifts one shoulder at him. They've packed up most of their warm things, but their coats and scarves are draped over the armchair waiting for when they leave the cabin. Kate pulls hers on and steps into her rubber boots.

She leaves them here, never has a reason to wear them in the city, so they're waiting all shiny and bright on the hearth for her. Wiggling her toes down inside, she takes her husband's hand and they head out to the back of the cabin together.

Her gloveless fingers are immediately freezing and Castle tucks their joined hands down into his pocket. She flutters her fingers against his palm, her other hand stuffed into the pocket of her own coat. Down at the lake they make their way to the dock and stand together at the very end of it.

The snow doesn't quite manage to stick to the ice, and so the lake is dark and hard. It reminds her of the buttons on their snowman's belly, the black pockmark scarring the pristine white of the landscape. "How can it be so gorgeous all year round."

"I know," she murmurs back to him. Castle is staring out towards the middle of the lake, and in his pocket his fingers wrap around hers and squeeze until her knuckles ache with it. "It's stunning. I love it here."

"Me too."

Kate isn't quite sure what he's getting from this. It's not that she doesn't love the lake, but she's seen it enough on their trip. Her butt still aches with how intimately she became acquainted with this ice. Her husband seems completely humbled by it, and she frees her hand from his pocket so that she can slide her arm around his waist instead.

Laying her cheek against his shoulder, she dusts a mostly useless kiss to his coat. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he says, but his voice is mournful. "I'm just sad that I won't get to come to work with you on Monday. I feel like I already miss you, and you're still right here."

"I'm always right here," she soothes. Castle wriggles his arm out from between them and wraps it around her instead, bringing her in so that he can kiss the top of her head. His breath is warm against her scalp and it makes gooseflesh erupt along the column of her spine.

She lets him have the silence he seems to need, and eventually he turns them away from the lake and they start back for the cabin again. Castle brings them to a stop beside Olaf and he reaches out to straighten the crooked twig that forms one of the snowman's arms.

"I feel bad just leaving him here. I don't want him to be lonely."

"He won't be," she murmurs. It's so unlike her to buy into the fantasy, but something about the sad little boy her husband has suddenly become makes her ache with fearsome protectiveness. "The bear and the deer will come and visit him."

Castle shakes his head as if to try and snap himself out of it, and it does seem to work a little. The smile he gives her is truthful, spreading to his eyes as well. He kisses her, soft at first and then deeper, his tongue stroking into her mouth.

Her fingers are useless with cold, but she does her best to card them through his hair, stroke the shells of his ears. In her chest, her own heart is a caged and frantic bird calling out for its mate. She hates the days when he can't make it to the precinct, when she has to leave him slumbering in their bed, and now that will be their every day.

"Let's get back inside," Castle says. He tugs on her hand and she goes, keeping pace with him as they jog up the porch steps and spill inside the cabin. It's so much warmer in here and she strips out of her coat and scarf immediately, flops down to sprawl on the couch.

Castle comes to join her and she rolls to drape herself over his chest, an arm banding around his middle. Her lips seek the soft skin at the hollow of his throat and she leaves little kisses there, smiles when his mouth comes to the crown of her head in echo.

"I'd really like to spend some time with your dad here," Castle starts. It makes her sit upright and she kicks out of her rubber boots, draws her socked feet up onto the couch. Toes curled over the edge, she props her chin on her knees and waits for him to continue.

"I feel like we don't see him very often when we're in the city. And from what I know of him, and what you've told me, I feel like this is more of his natural habitat. So I'd like to come here with him and learn to fish, see the best hiking trails. Just have quality time with the Becketts."

For a moment she can only stare at him, and her heart batters frantically against her ribcage. Capturing his face between her palms, Kate surges in to kiss him. It almost topples her into his lap but she goes easily, clinging to him as she strokes her tongue past his lips.

When they break apart again she smoothes her thumb over his mouth and leaves her hand against his cheek. "Thank you for loving my dad, Rick. I really- loving you has expanded my family, and I'm so grateful it's expanded his too."

"Of course," he murmurs to her. She manages to slide out of his lap and she twists to face him on the couch instead, drapes her legs over his thighs. "It's nice to have a kind of father figure. Especially one as great as Jim."

"A few weeks ago," Kate starts, has to pause and swallow back the thick emotion in her throat. "He asked me do I think you would mind if he maybe started calling you son."

Castle's mouth opens and a little squeak comes out. It makes her laugh and she kisses him again, a fast and wet thing this time. "I wouldn't mind at all. Not at all, Kate."

"i told him that I didn't think you would. Try to act surprised if he does it, okay? It should be a moment for you guys."

"I won't be acting," Castle gruffs out.

He's such a happy guy, so jovial, that she often forgets about the wounded boy who still lives in him. Fatherless, abandoned over and over again. It makes her ache to see it on his face now and Kate tugs on him until he curls up and lays his head against her chest.

"My dad loves you, Rick. When we have our brunches he spends half the time asking after you. Tells me over and over how glad he is that I found you."

His weight is sort of crushing her, pinning her to the couch cushions, but Kate sifts her fingers through his hair over and over and lets him hide his face against her chest. After a little while he sits up again and huffs a little laugh, his shoulders wiggling self-consciously.

"When we get back to the city we can ask him about it. Maybe arrange a weekend up here for the three of us. And Alexis too if she'd like. Although I'm not sure where we'd put her."

"The couch?"

"I'm not making your daughter sleep on the couch." Something ferocious comes to life in Kate's chest and she lifts up on her knees, looming over him now. "Castle, I want Alexis to know that she fits here. She belongs. I don't want to squeeze her in as an afterthought."

His smile stretches wide across his mouth at that, and Kate sinks down to sit on her heels again. "But honey, there really isn't any room. And she's too old for a camp bed on the floor with us."

"She can take our room and we'll get a sofa bed."

"Kate no," he gasps. "We're too tall for that. Are you kidding me? We wouldn't get a moment's sleep the whole time."

Irritation flares to life in her belly and she twists on the couch. "Well I don't know what to do, Castle. I'm just trying to include your daughter here."

"Hey, whoa, I know you are." He shows her his palms. Her face is turned away from him, her jaw set, but when he slides an arm around her shoulders she doesn't protest. Castle brings her in to cuddle up with him and she goes, but she's still a little stiff. "I love you so much for caring so fiercely about Alexis. I'm not going against the idea. Just the practicality. But we can figure it out, I'm sure we can."

She huffs a breath, but his lips are at her cheek now and working their lazy way across. By the time he captures her mouth she's forgotten her grouchiness and she opens up to his kiss, winding her arms around him.

Their kiss builds from lazy to frantic and back down again, their bodies shifting on the couch until she winds up in his lap. When they break apart she grins down at him and pushes his hair back out of his face. "Babe, I don't mean to alarm you, but we've got an entire refrigerator full of food that we need to work through for lunch."


	23. Chapter 23

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

"I am so full," he groans. They emptied out the refrigerator and spread everything across the counter, and he got to pick and choose what he ate for lunch. He tried a little bit of everything, naturally. Kate had eaten cracker after cracker, topped alternately with cheese or pâté.

They're sitting together at the kitchen island, various empty wrappers and half-finished foods scattered across the counter in front of them. Kate is swinging her legs, the heels of her feet drumming against the bottom of the barstool.

She swipes delicately at the corner of her mouth and sips her glass of water. "I was mostly kidding when I said we needed to eat everything."

"Yeah, but we can't just throw it out. That's wasteful."

"Next time we come up here remind me to bring a cooler bag so we can transport stuff home again."

Castle plucks the last grape from the vine and pops it into his mouth. Bursting it between his teeth, he chews slowly and relishes the sweetness of the juice. When he swallows he smiles at Kate and props his head in his hand. "I'll try to remember to remind you."

"Thanks," she laughs.

Hopping down from her barstool, Kate starts to gather up all of the food packaging and separate it into recyclables and normal trash. The special trash can for the recycling is out front and Castle takes the stack of plastics from her. He has to stop and put his sneakers back on before he can head outside to toss them away.

He doesn't bother with a coat, but the trash can is all the way at the end of the drive and he shivers his way there. On the way back to the cabin he stuffs his hands into his pockets and huddles down to shelter from the elements, his chin ducked almost to his chest.

The wind is starting to pick up again now and it catches the front door, slamming it shut before he gets the chance to close it carefully. Kate's head turns towards the sound and when he goes to join her in the kitchen she accepts the kiss he dusts to her cheek with a little smile.

She's washing up their lunch things, and he collects a dish cloth from the cabinet drawer and dries the clean dishes, puts them away. There are clean things from yesterday and this morning still piled up on the draining rack beside the sink and he puts those back in the cabinets too.

This is their family's cabin, so it doesn't really matter if they don't leave the place catalogue perfect. He doesn't want Kate's father to have to clean up after them the next time he comes up here though, and he's happy to spend a little bit of time cleaning up.

Castle sprays the counters down with cleaning solution and wipes them all, leaves them pristine and sparkling. His wife is cleaning the inside of the refrigerator now, removing each of the plastic shelves to wipe them down properly.

"I'm gonna sweep up," he says once the countertops are clean. "The brush is in the entryway closet, right?"

He gets a nod and he heads to find the brush. He comes back brandishing it like a sword, and he pokes the handle end into the meat of Kate's butt. It makes her snap to sharp attention and she scowls at him, advances slowly.

Castle backs away, both hands tight around the handle of the broom. After a moment his wife gives up and shakes her head at him, returns to deal with the refrigerator. The floors of the cabin are all hardwood and he sweeps his way around the living room, forms a pile of dust and crumbs.

The kitchen is next on his list and he goes around and around the island. He brushes Kate's feet a few times and she kicks out at him, pushes on his chest. She's adorable when she's grumbling, but he leaves her alone and adds the dirt he swept in the kitchen to the pile.

There's a dustpan and brush in the entryway closet and he fetches it, comes back to gather up all of the debris. He deposits it neatly into the trash and puts the broom back in the storage cupboard, leaves the dustpan and brush out for when they clean out the fireplace.

Kate has finished with the kitchen by now and she comes to meet him in the living room, sinks to her knees in front of the hearth. The fire has burned out by now and Kate moves the ash around with the poker to make sure it's not still glowing underneath.

"I don't want to leave it like this for my dad to deal with next time he's here," she says. Kate begins sweeping all of the ash out of the fireplace.

There are grocery bags in the kitchen and Castle darts to grab one. Coming back, he sinks down to sit beside her and holds the bag in place for Kate to sweep all of the ash into it. His wife's forehead scrunches up as she concentrates. Her entire arm reaches into the fireplace to get the brush into all of the little nooks.

Once she's done she sits back on her heels and sets the brush down, swipes her hands together. "Okay. I wanna move some logs in here from the garage too. Can you help me?"

"Of course I'll help you," he says immediately. Castle curls his fingers over the top of her shoulder before she gets a chance to stand up and he holds her in place as he kisses her. It's soft and sweet and Kate hums into the touch of his lips, lifting her chin into the kiss.

He breaks away from her and stands, waits for her to get to her feet as well. They pad to the garage together, that same waft of Artic air hitting him the moment Kate opens the connecting door. Inside, she hands him a bright green plastic bucket.

"Can you fill this with kindling, and I'll take charge of the logs. I don't want my dad to have to track back and forth when he gets here."

"Sure."

There's a huge crate full of kindling that Beckett's dad must have collected, and Rick piles some of it into the bucket. Once that gets pretty full he heads for the connecting door back into the house. Kate is waiting for him, her arms filled with logs that pile all the way to her chin.

They arrange everything neatly by the fireside so that when Kate's father is here next he can get a fire going immediately and keep himself warm. Once they're done they both wash their hands in the bathroom and Kate wanders through the cabin to collect their towels.

"I'm gonna put them in the washer ready to go when he's next here. I'll leave him a note. Have you got paper?"

"I've got sticky notes in my laptop bag. Wait there."

He darts into the bedroom to grab the pad of stickies. Alexis puts them in his stocking every year, hunts for the quirkiest ones that she can find. This Christmas he got a pad of stickies that come with instructions to turn each note into an origami creation once you're finished with it.

Castle rummages deeper into his laptop bag for a pen and carries it and the pad of sticky notes back through to the kitchen. His wife has loaded the used towels into the washer and she takes the pad from him, jots down a message for her father to go ahead and wash these when he's here, and that the towels in the bathroom now are clean.

"Okay," she says when she's done. Kate holds her hands out away from her body and does a slow turn, surveying the living space of the cabin. "I don't think there's anything else we need to do. Check the cabinets for any food that might go bad, I guess."

Most of the food in the cabinets is non-perishable, but he takes out a half eaten loaf of bread and sets it on the counter for them to take back to the city. There's a packet of chocolate cookies in there too and he pulls it out, shows it to Kate.

"Snack for the drive back."

"Good," she grins. Kate lays her cheek against his shoulder and she yawns, scrubbing a hand against her eyes. She's not wearing any makeup today and her lashes look fragile and feathery. "Mm. Tired."

He brings his arms around her and rocks them a little, his lips at the crown of her head. "I'll drive. You can sleep in the car."

"No," she hums. "You'll get bored if I'm not awake to entertain you. And I'll drive half."

It's not worth trying to reason with her, so he kisses her forehead instead. Her hair smells lovely and fresh and he buries his face against the top of her head to breathe her in. His breath must tickle because she squirms and breaks out of his arms.

Two cool hands come to his cheeks and she draws him down to her, kisses his mouth. He settles his hands in the dip of her waist as he kisses her back, her chest pressed to his. He draws his left hand slowly up to curl at the back of her neck and her hair spills over his knuckles, her skin warm.

"I don't think we can delay leaving any longer," she says when they break apart.

He huffs a little breath of laughter and tucks her hair back behind her ears, kisses the very tip of her nose. She blinks, and a smile tugs at one corner of her mouth. "It's okay, Beckett. We'll come back soon."

"We said that last time."

"Fair point," he says. Kate has her hands stuffed into her pockets now, and her socked toes trace the seam where two of the floorboards join together. "But we're married now. Since we were here last we had to figure out our relationship, then you got a new job and then got fired, then I was missing and then I finally got to marry you. I'm hopeful we won't have to handle that much disruption again."

That makes her smile and she lifts her chin again, meets his eyes. "Yeah. I hope so too."

"I'm gonna put the rest of our stuff in the car," he says. "I'll meet you out there?"

"Yeah."

Castle heads for the bedroom to collect his suitcase and his laptop bag. He slings Kate's purse onto his shoulder as well and heads for the front door of the cabin. The keys are on the hook and he snags them, struggles to manoeuvre all of the luggage and himself through the door.

Outside, he clicks the button to pop the trunk and he puts his suitcase in beside Kate's, closes the trunk door again. His laptop bag goes in the back of the car so that it doesn't get bashed around so much. He leans forward past the centre console to put Kate's purse in the footwell of the passenger seat.

Heading back inside, he doesn't bother to lock the car and he goes in search of his wife. She's locking the French doors at the back of the cabin and she lays a palm to the glass, her nose almost touching.

He's half hoping to sneak up on her, but when he winds his arms around her middle she only sighs and leans back against him. Her head fits neatly in the crease of his neck, and she covers his hands at her stomach with hers.

"I don't want to go."

"I know," he says soothingly. "But we have to go back to our home and our family. And you love your job. Work will be good once you get back into the rhythm of things."

Kate grunts and turns in the circle of his arms. Her forehead meets his clavicle and he rests a hand at the back of her head to keep her there. He's sad too, doesn't want to leave any more than she does, and he rests his lips to the crown of his wife's head and says nothing.

After a little while she straightens up and musters a smile for him. "Okay. I'm ready. Let me get my shoes and coat."

He follows her to the armchair where their jackets are and he pulls his on, wiggling his shoulders inside to get it to sit properly. Kate pads around the cabin to do a final check, stopping in the bedroom to put on her ankle boots. Her phone is on the nightstand, charging before they leave, and she slides the cell into her pocket.

Stooping to unplug the charger from the wall outlet gives him a great view and he tilts his head, doesn't bother trying to disguise it when she straightens up and turns back to see him. Kate snags her scarf from the back of the couch and winds it around her neck, and then she comes to take his hand and lead him outside.

She locks the front door, her index finger through the loop of the keychain as they head for the car. He has to let go so that she can slip into the passenger side and he gives her a last kiss before he does, backing her against the side of the car.

The metal is freezing and she arches away from it, her chest crushed to his. It makes him laugh and he presses his lips to hers one more time before he rounds the front of the car and slides into the driver's seat. Castle puts the key in the ignition immediately and turns the heat up as high as it will go, flips on the warmers in their seats as well.

Kate is shivering, her hands pressed together and trapped between her knees. After a minute she unzips her purse and puts the keys to the cabin and her phone charger inside, closes it again. Already the car is starting to get warm and he fastens his seatbelt, waits for Kate to do the same before he shifts into drive.

The driveway has a wide circle where he can turn and he does, very slowly so he doesn't lose control on the snow and skid. He has to crawl down the length of the driveway, his heart in his throat as he feels the total lack of traction beneath the wheels.

Once they make it onto the road he releases his breath in a great puff and he relaxes back against his seat. "Who grits the roads up here?"

"A bunch of the farmers. My dad's buddies with some of them. He helps some years. They go out in their trucks to spread grit, and then when it snows they drive the plough through."

"It's such a community up here," Castle muses. He's still driving pretty slowly, because the roads are narrow and he doesn't quite trust that a patch of black ice won't sneak up on them and make the car skid. In hindsight, Beckett should have probably been the one to drive this part.

Kate has her phone out and she turns on the bluetooth to connect it to the car, scrolling through her music until she finds a good song. He can hardly hear it and he turns the heat down in the car a couple of notches. Now that the vents are no longer roaring he can hear the haunting melody of the music his wife has selected.

It makes gooseflesh prickle along the length of his spine and he shifts in his seat, feels as though the eyes of the woods are on them. His car is a sleek and shiny beast, entirely unnatural as it carves through the wilderness.

He needs directions from Kate, and she murmurs them softly to him as he drives. She's kicked her boots off already and she's got her feet pulled up onto the seat, an arm wrapped around her bent knees. Her body is oriented towards him, her cheek against the headrest. Eyes on him as he drives, and he can feel the melancholy that rolls off her in waves.

"Okay?"

"Yeah," she says quietly. "Sad. I miss my mom."

There never was anything he could say to make it hurt less for her. When she first told him he'd joked about Nikki, offered himself up to her barbed retorts. It had made her smile at least, even as tears made her eyes glassy.

Kate is easily spooked when it comes to her mother, and he finds himself treading so very carefully through every conversation they have. So wary of hurting her. Now, he keeps his mouth shut and he lets the music Kate is choosing talk for them both.

When they join the road that cuts through town he slows down a little more. The Christmas decorations are still up in all of the windows of the stores and the few houses on the main street. It's beautiful, and tasteful, and the car rolls almost without gas down the street so that they can both take everything in.

He speeds up once they get onto the larger roads, but he's not exactly in a hurry to leave either. Every so often he darts little glances at Kate, and each time her bottom lip is caught between her teeth and she's picking at the ragged edge of a cuticle.

"Hey," he says when they've been driving for almost forty minutes. "Can you- would you put something more upbeat on? I wanna sing."

"You always want to sing," she says, but it does at least earn him the little flicker of a smile. Her phone is beneath her thigh on the seat and she pulls it free, scrolling through her music library until she finds something.

Kate has never really been one to keep up with the charts, but Castle likes to check the Billboard 100 each week. He likes to keep up with pop culture, mostly so that he can look cool on Twitter. And then he gets a song stuck in his head and he plays it so much that Kate gives in and downloads it to her phone too.

The first beats of the song fill the car and he grins, wiggling to the beat in his seat. Kate is grinning widely now, laughing at him as he starts singing. Her shoulder shimmy, and when they get to the chorus she joins in with the echoing part.

"I'm too hot," he sings, darting a glance at her and wriggling his eyebrows.

It makes her laugh and she shakes her head at him, but she sings back. "Hot damn."

There's a dance break after the chorus and he drums his fingers against the steering wheel, wiggling his hips and wishing that he had the space to dance properly. He gets a little too enthusiastic and Kate gasps, slams a hand against the dash in front of her.

"Castle, you're rocking the car."

"I'm not rocking the car," he laughs. "I'm just dancing. Dance with me, Beckett."

Her cheeks are pink now, but she does her best to dance against the restraints of her seatbelt. Her elbow smacks against the window of the car and she yelps, but it doesn't deter her. She's laughing, her head tipped back and the pink flash of her tongue entirely distracting him.

When the song ends she collapses back agains the seat, panting with the exertion, and she presses the back of her hand to her forehead. "Dancing in the car is not easy. I'm sweating."

He watches from the corner of his eye as Kate battles her way out of her coat. She unfastens her belt for just a second to get the jacket off and he cries out, earns himself a swat to the arm. Kate leans into the back of the car to drape her coat and scarf across the back seat, and then she turns around again and refastens her belt.

Her face is pink and she huffs to blow her hair out of her eyes, tucks it behind her ears instead. There's a beat of quiet where all of the amusements hangs in the air between them, and then she turns soft and smiles at him.

"Thanks Rick."

"Any time," he says back.

Her phone is still playing and he clears his throat, joins in right in time for the chorus of the next song. Rain is spitting against the windshield now and he flicks on the wipers, turns on his headlights too so that the car is a bit more visible on these country roads.

Kate is a happy shadow at the edge of his vision and she's singing properly now. Singing the harmonies just to show off, and he pokes his tongue out at her. One hand at the wheel, he reaches across to cover her knee with his hand.

His fingers wiggle their way into the seam of her leg and she smiles, strokes the hairs at his forearms. "Let me know if you get tired of driving and I'll take over."

"I'm good," he says. "You're the one who was tired. Take a nap if you want honey. I'll wake you if I need to."

She does consider it for a minute, but then he sees her shake her head in the corner of his field of vision. "No. I won't sleep tonight if I nap now. Distract me."

"Let's play 20 questions," he says immediately. He has a daughter, and when Alexis was younger she always frothed with impatience whenever they went on a long car ride. He has a whole arsenal of car trip games up his sleeve.

Kate laughs at him, but she draws her feet up onto the seat and curls her toes over the edge. "Alright. Twenty questions. You wanna go first?"

"Sure," he says. It takes him all of five seconds to think of something and he nods vigorously, tightening his fingers at the steering wheel. "Okay. I'm ready. Shoot."

"Is it a person?"

"Yep."

She chews on her lip for a minute as she thinks. It isn't the first time they've played this game and he's always amused by how tactical Kate gets.

"Are they real?"

"Yes," he says, without hesitation.

"Are they a man?"

"Uh-huh."

Kate works through a few more guesses, figures out that the person he's thinking of isn't an actor or a sports star or a politician. He feels gleeful with watching her try and figure it out, the adorable frustration on her face.

She starts to run out of questions pretty quickly then, and soon she only has one left. Her arms are folded and she's pouting. "Is it somebody that you've met?"

"Sadly not."

Both palms press hard against her eye sockets and she growls. "Castle, I don't know. You win. I'm out of questions."

"I was thinking of Santa," he says proudly. Kate lunges at him so ferociously that he almost swerves the car. His hands grip the steering wheel tight and he cries out, pushes his wife away from him with his elbow. "Are you trying to kill us?"

"You said you were thinking of someone real," she says, indignation making her voice a little screechy. "That was one of the first things you said. Santa is not real, Castle."

" _What_?" he gasps, peeling a hand away from the wheel to press to his heart. "Beckett, I think- I think an elf just died. You killed an elf with your disbelief."

She's fuming at him, her body all tucked up in the seat, and she pushes the spill of her hair back aggressively. "And you cheated. Santa is not real, Castle."

"People lie to you in the interrogation room all the time," he says in justification. "I figured you'd see past it."

"I wasn't in detective mode. I was in wife mode."

That makes him laugh and he reaches for one of her hands, lifts it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. "I love wife mode. And anyway, it wasn't really a lie. St. Nicholas was a real person."

"Well then you shouldn't have said that he's still alive," she shouts. Kate snatches her hand back and he lets her have it, trying so hard not to laugh at the rage bubbling over in her. "You're a cheat, Richard Castle."

"Passed the time though, didn't it?"

"Shut up," she grumbles, turning in her seat to put her back to him. "I'm napping."


	24. Chapter 24

**Living Out in the Snow**

* * *

At the next rest stop Castle pulls off the highway and navigates his way to the parking lot, sliding the car neatly into a space. Kate is still very much awake, her irritation a third presence in the car, but she's turned away from him.

"I'm gonna get some coffee. Do you want to come inside, or are you staying here?"

"Need to use the bathroom," she mutters. Kate opens her door and gets out of the car, reaching into the back for her coat.

He takes a moment to just sit, his head in his hands, and then he sighs and makes himself get out and join his wife. She's waiting on her side. As he rounds the front of the car she makes to stride away and he snags her wrist in his fingers, hauls her back against him.

"Are you really mad?" he asks as he backs her up against the car. He's got her pinned, but they both know she could break away if she really wanted to. Instead her body sags and she rests her forehead to his chest.

"No. I'm not mad. I'm just in a bad mood. I hate leaving the cabin. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

He chuckles and kisses the crown of her head, sifts his fingers through her hair. "That's okay Beckett. I can take it."

"You did kind of deserve it with your cheating," she says, lifting her head to see him. Kate straightens the lapels of his coat and uses that grip to lift up into him, kiss his mouth. He gives it back carefully, mindful that they're in the middle of a parking lot.

"Come on honey," he says. His fingers are too wide to lace with hers really, but he does it anyway and presses the meat of his palm to hers. "Let's get some coffee in you. You'll feel better."

They walk towards the rest stop building together, clasped hands swinging loosely between their bodies. Kate's apology is the circle of her thumb over the back of his hand, the nudge of her shoulder at his as they squeeze through the doors together.

It's busy inside, and he tightens his grip in case the tide of people sweeps Kate up and away from him. "I'll wait in line while you go to the bathroom. Know what you want in case I get to the front?"

"My usual is fine," she says. Taking her hand back, she lays it against his chest and she steps in close to kiss him, even with the people that swarm around. "Thanks babe. Be right back."

He watches her go, a flash of dark hair and camel coat and endless leg, and then he joins the end of the line for the Starbucks counter. His phone must have connected to the free internet this place offers because it starts buzzing ferociously in his pants pocket and he has to tug it free.

Notifications are pouring in, emails and iMessages and tweets people have sent him. It's a little overwhelming and he gulps, flicks his thumbnail against the plastic phone case as he watches the alerts fill his screen.

Once they finally seem to stop he unlocks his phone and starts checking everything, starting with his messages. It's mostly New Years texts from his various acquaintances and he shoots off a generic thanks to each of them.

He scrolls through his Twitter next, smiling when he sees the number of people who have taken time out of their day to tweet him well wishes for the new year. It always makes him so humbled when he gets to interact with his fans, and he chooses a few of the familiar names to shoot off a reply to.

So many of them extend their kindness and generosity to Kate as well, tell him that they hope he spent some quality time with his wife. He must look like a total goof, grinning down at his cell phone screen, but he goes on something of a favouriting spree so that he can find these messages later and show them to Beckett.

He leaves his emails for later, certain that it'll be a slew of marketing about various New Years sales. Instead, he locks his phone and tucks it away in his pocket again. Castle casts a slow glance around the place, taking in the various people in the line with him.

It's mostly families, people travelling back home now that the holidays are over. There are two brothers over near the counter playing some kind of complicated version of roshambo that gets rowdier and rowdier until their mother settles a hand at each of their heads and draws them slowly apart.

Behind him, somebody clears their throat and he turns to see a girl around his daughter's age. Her blonde hair is a neat braid over one shoulder, that intricate herringbone he sees all the time now. Her eyes are green and huge, and when he looks at her she smiles widely.

"Excuse me, are you Richard Castle?"

"Yes, that's me," he smiles at the girl and offers his hand for her to shake. "And you are?"

She's blushing now and she giggles, dips her chin. "I'm Kelly. I'm sorry, I know you must be on vacation, I don't mean to disturb you. I just love your books."

"You're not disturbing me at all," he assures her. "I was pretty bored waiting in line actually. And it's always nice to meet a fan."

"Are you- isn't your wife here?"

He stiffens at that, a ridiculous protective instinct roaring to life in his chest. His fingers start to curl into a fist and he forces them straight again, makes his smile stretch wide enough that it begins to ache. "Yes, my wife is here. I'm getting coffee for us both."

"I didn't mean to pry," Kelly hurries to explain. Her cheeks are scarlet with embarrassment now, but it does settle him a little. "I'm so sorry. I just read her article in Cosmo years ago, and I've kind of kept up to date with her since then. I _love_ Nikki Heat, so I guess the real person must be pretty amazing."

"She is," he says. His whole body goes soft and he lists to one side. It lets him see past Kelly and he spots his wife approaching, flutters his fingers at her in a wave. "Here she is now if you'd like to meet her."

Kelly's mouth drops open and then a hand flies up to cover it, only to fall away again a second later. "Oh gosh, I'm- are you sure? I don't want to interrupt."

"You're not interrupting," he assures the girl as Kate reaches them. Sliding his hand neatly in to hers, he draws her in to stand beside him and he kisses her cheek. Mostly for show, and her elbow knocks into his ribs. "Hi honey. This is Kelly. She's a fan of my books, but I think she might be a bigger fan of you."

"Nice to meet you Kelly," Kate says warmly, extending a hand to the girl.

She takes it, but she's trembling and she can barely get her words out now. "Detective Beckett. You're- it's- I can't believe I'm meeting you. I'm such a big fan. I'm hoping to go to the police academy after I graduate college in a couple years."

"Wow," Kate says, darting a quick glance to him. "You want to be a cop?"

"Ever since I read your Cosmo article. And Mr Castle's books pushed me in that direction too. Damn, I wish I had one you could sign."

He laughs at that and Kate does too, squeezing his fingers in hers. "Would you like me to take a picture of you guys?"

"Oh, yes please."

Castle lets go of his wife to go and stand beside his fan instead. Kelly hands her cell phone over and Kate frames the shot. He's got his arm around Kelly's shoulders and he smiles. Looking at Kate, so it's a true one and not one of his publicity grimaces.

After she takes the picture Kate passes the phone back over, and Kelly hesitates a moment before she speaks. "Could I. . .maybe have a picture with you as well, Detective Beckett?"

"Oh," Kate says. Surprise makes her face slack and her eyes fly to his but he's grinning, already taking the phone from Kelly and trading places with his wife. "Yes. Of course you can."

Kate follows his lead, her arm around Kelly's shoulders. Her head bends in close, because the girl isn't very tall and Kate is so statuesque. She's so stunning, like a model or an actress in the photograph, and he has to force himself to focus and press the button to actually take the picture.

Once he's done he hands the phone back over and Kelly smiles widely at them, her cell clutched tight in her fingers. "Thank you both so much. Have a safe journey home."

"Thank you," he says. This girl is so sweet, and he wishes that all of his fan encounters were like this. "You too, Kelly."

She leaves the line then, scuttling away from them and already raising her phone to her ear. Kate turns to look at him and for a moment she only stares, her mouth open. "I've never had a fan before."

"You're so cute," he laughs. It makes her blush, and he captures her face between his palms and holds her in place to kiss her. She smiles into it and winds her arms around his neck, rests her forehead at his cheek. "Of course you've got fans. You're amazing. Nikki is ninety percent you. Of course they love you."

"Wasn't she waiting for coffee?" Kate asks as she breaks away from him. She slides her hand into his and they move forward with the rest of the line, just a couple of steps.

He laughs and glances across the rest stop as if he might spot her, but Kelsey has already been swallowed up by the holiday crowds. "She was. I think meeting you made her more wired than the caffeine would have done though."

"She wants to be a cop because of me," Kate whispers. Awe makes her face slack and she shakes her head slowly, blinking up at him. "Because of me. I influenced that. I'm- wow."

"You never quite get used to that. I still get people telling me I inspired them to want to write, and it's amazing every time."

Hooking her arm through his, Kate lays her cheek to his shoulder. "I love you, Castle. This is my life, because of you. I get to have a positive impact, just like my mom did."

"We could get you involved with some of my charity stuff if you want?" he suggests. "Or you could pick your own. Just say the word, Beckett. Whatever you want."

"I'd really like that. Carry on her legacy, like that scholarship."

She falls quiet then and he's content to let her have the space to work through her thoughts. His lips flirt with the crown of her head, his arm around her shoulders now.

When they get to the front of the line he orders their coffees and Kate snags two of the chocolate chip cookies from the jar on the counter as well. He pays for everything and they move to the other end of the counter to wait for their drinks.

Kate is playing absent-mindedly with his fingers now, stretching them and making his joints feel weird. He likes it, and he flutters them in her grip so that she'll continue. He asked for their drinks to go, because he's eager to get back home, and the barista places two travel cups down in front of them.

He takes both, because Kate is still holding their cookies, and he follows her as she cuts a neat path through the bunches of people and towards the doors. Back at the car he heads for the passenger side this time and he sets their coffee cups down on the roof of the Buick so that he can open his door.

Both coffees safely nestled in the cup holders in the centre console, Castle fastens his seatbelt and takes his wife's purse when she passes it over to him. She shrugs out of her coat and then Kate fastens her own belt and slides the key into the ignition, starts up the engine.

He plucks his coffee from the holder and blows into the little hole in the lid to try and cool it off before he takes a sip. It's scalding and he hisses, has to work his tongue around his mouth. Kate is laughing at him, her eyes on the road, and he pokes his index finger into the meat of her thigh.

She's driving, which means that it's his turn to be in charge of their music selection. He connects his phone to the car's bluetooth and puts it on shuffle, leaves it balanced on his knee so that he can skip anything either of them wants to.

"I'm hungry," Kate says once they're back on the highway. "Can you feed me my cookie?"

He opens the plastic wrapper around the chocolate cookie and breaks off a little chunk, lifts it to his wife's mouth. She's focused on the road, so he has to bring it right to her lips. She opens her mouth and he pops the chunk of cookie inside for her. The tip of Kate's tongue darts out to swipe at his fingertip where the heat of his skin had started to melt the chocolate, and he shivers.

She chews slowly, humming to herself. When she's done she opens her mouth for more and he laughs, breaks off another chunk and pops it past her lips for her. They work through the whole cookie like that and when the packet is empty he laughs.

"You can have mine too if you want. I'm still stuffed from lunch."

"No no, my treat."

He snorts at that and her eyes dart to his face for just a second, amusement flirting with the corner of her mouth. "I paid for it."

"What's your point?"

"Right," he says resolutely. "What's mine is yours. Yes, dear."

They're quiet for a while then, one or the other of them occasionally singing along to snatches of the songs that his phone plays. As they get nearer the city the traffic thickens and Kate sighs, resting her head against the back of the seat.

"It's gonna take us forever to get home."

"Wanna play some more twenty questions?" he teases. It makes her growl and she turns her head to look at him, the car stationary in the traffic.

That noise of irritation still rumbles at the base of her throat and she narrows her eyes at him. "You think you're so funny. Just wait until we get back. Martha and Alexis will take my side for sure."

"Well Alexis probably will. You guys are synced, right?"

" _Castle_ ," she gapes, reaching across the centre console to shove on his arm. He allows it to topple him and his other shoulder smacks against the car window, makes him grunt. "Oh my God. I can't believe- I don't know if we're synced. We don't exactly discuss it."

She's hissing at him, all long neck and teeth flashing like a beautiful and very angry goose. It makes him rear back from her for real this time. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Beckett. Just a normal biological function."

"And another thing," she ploughs right through him. "I'm not mad at you because of the time of the month. I'm mad because you _cheated_. Don't try to blame this on me being female."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he says, showing her his palms in submission. "I take it back. You have every right to be mad at me."

He really is just teasing, and he plucks her fingers from the air and brings them to his lips, kisses each of her knuckles in turn. It works to soften her and her lips curve up into a smile, her chin ducked. The traffic in front of them crawls forwards a little and Kate takes her foot off of the brake, lets the car roll for a bit.

"What do you wanna do for dinner tonight?" he asks.

Kate is drumming impatient fingers against the steering wheel and she turns to look at him, scratches her fingers against her scalp. "Your mom texted me. Apparently Alexis is cooking something to welcome us home."

"Mother messaged you and not me?"

"She loves me," Kate shrugs. He pouts, feigns hurt, but joy bubbles up in him and he can't hold it back. His grin blooms wide with gratitude for the easy way his mother loves, how comfortable Kate is around her. "But anyway. We don't need to worry about it, apparently. We're to focus on enjoying our drive home."

Castle groans and scrubs his fingertips at his temple, closing his eyes a moment. Slumping against the doorframe, he grunts and lets his cheek meet the cool glass. "I'm not sure it's possible to enjoy it when we can't actually do any driving. I could probably walk faster."

"You're welcome to get out and I'll meet you at home."

He pokes his tongue out at her and fishes his cell phone from beneath his leg, holds his thumb over the button so that his fingerprint makes the home screen spring into life.

"What are you doing?"

He glances up from the phone to look at her, confusion knotting his forehead. "I was going to play my Angry Birds."

"Really?" she arches an eyebrow at him. "You're going to play your app and just leave me in silence."

"Oh," he says, clicking the button to lock his phone. The screen plunges into darkness and he drops it right into the door pocket. "Sorry. Didn't really think it through."

Kate presses her lips together and turns to look out of the windshield again. Her profile is so lovely and elegant that he can't help himself. Straining against the confines of his seatbelt, Castle gets close enough to touch his lips to her cheek and he does, leaves wet little kisses in a line to the corner of her mouth.

"Are you mad at me honey? I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?"

"Not at you," she sighs, knocking her head against his. "It's the traffic. And I hate travelling home. It just drags out the sadness of leaving."

The edge of the seatbelt is cutting into his neck and he has to sit back properly in his chair again. She removes one of her hands from the wheel and slides it into his though, stroking her fingertips against the meat of his palm.

"You'll feel better once we're home."

"Yeah," she agrees. "If we ever get there."

Castle pulls his phone out of the door pocket and unlocks it again, opens up his browser again. "You wanna do something fun tonight? Shake us out of our funk? We could go to the movies."

"Ooh," she says, turning to look at him. " _Into the Woods_ is still showing. I really want to see it."

"Let's do it," he grins.

Castle calls his mother to ask if she and Alexis want to join them at the movies. Both women agree enthusiastically and he books four tickets for tonight's showing on his phone, shows Kate the confirmation email that comes through almost immediately.

The traffic starts to pick up a little bit, but it still seems to take forever before they even make it back to Manhattan. He's impressed, as always, by Kate's easy handling of the car, the smooth way she drives even when things are stop-start.

By the time they pull into the parking garage beneath his building he's aching to get out of the car and stretch his legs, and that jagged vein has surfaced in Kate's forehead. She cuts the engine and they pile out, collect all of their stuff from the back seat and the trunk before they make for the elevator.

When they finally make it to the front door of the loft he unlocks it and swings it wide, and the two of them squeeze through the doorframe together. Alexis and his mother are at the kitchen island and they detach themselves, come to wrap Castle and Kate up in a hug.

"I missed you Dad, Kate," Alexis says. She's got her arm hooked through Beckett's and she leads Castle's wife towards the couch. The two of them sink to sit, heads bent together as they chatter, and he only turns at the insistent tug of his mother's hand in his sleeve.

She's trying to help him out of his coat and he puts the bags down so that she can, gives her a smile of thanks when she hangs his jacket up in the closet.

"Welcome home, darling. How was your trip?" She leaves a powdery kiss at his cheek and Castle closes his eyes, feeling six years old again for just a moment. When she tugs back to look at him he gives her a wide smile and he hooks his arm at her shoulders, brings her to the living room to join Kate and Alexis.

"Hey, Dad," Alexis says, patting the couch cushion next to her. He sits, his daughter sandwiched between Rick and his wife now, and he accepts the enthusiastic arms she flings around his neck. "Kate was just telling me that you guys saw a bear?"

He laughs and shares a glance with Kate from over the top of Alexis' head. "We did. He was trying to drink at the lake, but it was frozen over so he couldn't quite manage to."

"That's so cool," his daughter breathes. She's got her feet tucked underneath herself on the couch and she lifts up on her knees a little in eagerness. "Wow. I'm glad he didn't eat you."

"Goodness darling, me too," his mother calls out. She's in the armchair at Kate's end of the couch, one leg crossed over the other and her heeled foot bouncing slowly in the air.

Castle laughs and reaches down to unfasten the laces of his sneakers, toeing his way out of them. More comfortable now,, he leans back against the couch and rests his ankle against his opposite knee. "We had a fantastic time. The cabin is so beautiful. And Kate and I were talking, and we'd love to go up there with the two of you and Jim."

"Oh, Dad, are you sure?" Alexis says. She's nibbling at her bottom lip and she darts a concerned glance in Kate's direction before she twists to meet his eyes again. "Isn't it like Mr Beckett's sanctuary, kind of? I don't want to intrude."

"Alexis," Kate starts. She touches three fingers to the ball of his daughter's shoulder and Alexis turns to look at Beckett. "You wouldn't be intruding. You and your gram are my family, just as much as your dad or my dad are. And if you'd like to come to the cabin, you are always welcome there."

Rick has to breathe slowly so that he doesn't choke on his adoration for his wife. She's smiling at him from over his daughter's head, and then she turns that same smile to his mother in the armchair to draw her into it too.

"Katherine darling, that's a lovely offer, but I've never really enjoyed becoming one with nature."

"Of course," Kate laughs. Kicking off her ankle boots, she draws her legs up onto the couch. He's a little astonished to see Alexis curl up with Beckett and lay her cheek to Kate's shoulder. The lights on the Christmas tree are lit, blinking slowly red and then green and then back to red again, and they transform his daughter's pale skin. "You don't have to come, Martha, but the offer is always open."

Alexis smiles against Kate's arm and stretches her legs out along the couch, her feet in Castle's lap. "What about me?"

"You _do_ have to come," Kate says. There's a lovely lilt of teasing in her voice, and her smile is a soft thing that mostly haunts the corners of her mouth. "So much cool stuff I want to show you up there. Ever jumped off a waterfall?"

"No," Alexis gasps, rearing upright and twisting to stare at Beckett. "You guys did that?"

Kate laughs at the alarm on Alexis' face and stretches to poke her toes into Castle's thigh, draw him back in to the conversation. "Not this time, too cold. But we did when we there in the summer a few years back. I think you'd love it."

"Okay," Alexis nods. "Yes. I'd love to come to the cabin."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me. All of your kind words have filled me with so much joy all throughout advent. I hope you have a very peaceful Christmas with your loved ones.

 **Twitter:** seilleanmor

 **Tumblr:** katiehoughton


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